Defy the Stars
by jaded-alchemist
Summary: The war is over and to ensure that it stays that way Harry has been tracking Deatheaters with Ron’s help. Needing a base of operations while he is in the States Harry moves in with Remus looking to blend in while Ron- Full summary inside EC/HP HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight or Harry potter, If I did I wouldn't be writing this now would I?

**Summary: **The war is over, and to ensure that it stays that way, Harry has been tracking Deatheaters with Ron's help. Needing a base of operations while he is in the States, Harry moves in with Remus and Tonks looking to bled in while Ron does some scouting. But with this Edward Cullen Boy acting strange can Harry stay unnoticed or will the Deatheaters find him? Harry Potter/Twilight Crossover EC/HP slash.

* * *

Defy the Stars

Chapter 1

The Oldsmobile shuddered to a stop at the end of an unkempt driveway, a police cruiser parked to its left. Its engine died as Remus removed the key from the ignition and stepped out of the car. Pulling the seat forward and hoisting a box out of the back seat He easily pushed his door shut. Harry stumbled out of the car next, juggling a second box, a suitcase and a duffel bag as he kicked the car door. Remus smiled at him from over the brown cardboard amber eyes warm and nervous, "So this is it, number seven Wilmont drive, Forks Washington." Remus fiddled with his keys blindly as he made his way to the small homely looking structure, pulling the screen door open and then pushing his way inside. Remus' voice filtered back out through the doorway as Harry followed after him, "Do you like it?"

Harry smiled sincerely at his friend's obvious insecurity, "It's nice. Very comfortable." It was a quiet statement, though he had no doubt that the older man caught every syllable. He caught sight of a well furnished living room, the color scheme skewed with various second hand pieces of furniture, an afghan lay crooked along the back of a threadbare sofa and the TV was still on the channel nine news. He noticed as well that the occupants in the pictures on the mantel were quite still. Everything looked like a typical muggle household. Harry turned up the wooden stairwell, to the second floor, the hallway at the top step led to three different rooms. Straight ahead was Remus and Tonks' bedroom, the door was ajar and Tonks was sprawled across the bed asleep, hand and leg hanging into view. To the left was most likely the bathroom and the right was wide open and shuffling could be heard within. Harry figured that was his room. He stepped inside; pleasantly surprised at the amount of furniture they had given him. A decent sized twin bed sat in one corner, in front of it was a three drawer bureau and a desk near the door way. The single window led to the backyard and had a view of the green foggy woods that reminded Harry of the forbidden forest, his gut clenched at the thought and he quickly shook it off.

"This is your room, the bathroom is across the hall, and Tonks and I will be sleeping next door." Remus had set the box down on the bed and Harry placed his own box on the desk, before dropping the suitcase and duffel bag with a grunt. "You've already seen the living room, the kitchen is through there and the cellar door is next to the pantry."

"Thanks again Remus for doing this for me." Harry smiled at Remus, "I'll be out of you're hair once I catch those three." He turned to the box on the desk and popped the folded top open easily, a pile of clothing stared back at him from inside.

Sighing and opening the box he had brought inside, Remus glanced at Harry, "Who is it this time." He inquired knowing very well that Harry had been tracking down and incarcerating renegade deatheaters for four years. The twenty one year old wizard plopped a pile of shirts into the bureau drawer and turned to go grab more things from his suitcase, green eyes thoughtful.

"Mcnair, Lestrange," Harry paused as Remus quirked a brow, "Bellatrix." he elaborated. "And Greyback." Remus' heart stopped momentarily at the name of his sire. Harry's eyes were trained on his face.

He leaned heavily on the bedpost, "Harry you- don't have to-" Remus choked out fingers kneading his eyes.

"I know." Harry interrupted. "Don't worry Rem." He stated as he turned back around and dug around in the bag.

"How can I not worry, Cub." Remus moaned. "you're tracking down three of the most dangerous deatheaters all by yourself." Harry shot him a glance, ire evident in his face.

"I'm not going it alone, Ron's helping me." He stated as he picked out the books in his bag and set them on top of the desk along with an old fashioned inkwell and a box of quills.

Huffing indignantly Remus shook his head, "That makes me feel so much better. There are two under experienced wizards hunting three dark arts masters. Fantastic, I'll be able to sleep soundly tonight." He sighed and waved in apology as Harry's annoyed gaze met his exasperated one. "Sorry, sorry. It's just; you've taken it upon yourself to hunt these people down. It worries me."

Harry winced as the older man pulled out his ultimate weapon, the guilt trip. "Look Remus," Harry began turning fully around to face the other, a balled up shirt clasped in his left hand. Remus just covered his eyes with his hand and shifted his weight on the bedpost. "I know it's dangerous, hell there are scars to prove that. But this one is different." Remus muttered into his hand as it slid down his face. Harry gulped feeling the guilt settling in. "Remus!" Harry threw his arms up at this point, his face pleading with his friend to understand, the shirt in his hand flew hitting the wall and then quickly meeting the floor. "Look if it makes you feel any better, this is the last bunch that we're going after." Remus raised his eyes to Harry's a disbelieving look plastered onto his face. Harry could see the frown through the hand that still lingered over the mans mouth. "I'll even get a normal muggle job while I'm here." Harry prompted seeing the wheels in the mans head turning.

"There was an add about a teaching position in the paper this morning…" Remus mumbled around his fingers. Harry sighed a sigh of relief just as the tousled bright pink head of Tonks poked through the door.

"Rem- Oh wotcher Harry!" She beamed before coming into the room and hugging Harry quickly, baby bump pronounced under the spaghetti strap top she was wearing. "When did he get here?" She inquired glaring at Remus as if he intended to hog the dark man's time while she slept.

"He got here about twenty minutes ago love." Remus stood up straight and opened his arms to her in an inviting gesture. She smiled and slipped into the werewolf's arms before kissing him soundly on the lips.

"Ugh! Guys please not in my room." Harry scoffed playfully turning away and retrieving the shirt he had thrown only minutes ago. Remus chuckled as the two broke apart.

"Alright Harry we'll let you unpack," Tonks said a fond smile crinkling the corner of her eyes. "But then you have to come downstairs and tell us how your trip was, young man." she admonished lightheartedly as Remus lead her out of the room, arm snugly around her waist.

Harry shook his head and tossed the shirt into the still open drawer like he'd seen a basket ball player do on the telly once. He had a nervous feeling in his stomach, He didn't quite know if he could stay out of trouble. It always seemed to suck him in, no matter what. Quickly unpacking the rest of his things and setting up various muggle style pictures of his family and friends, (Lily and James were set on the Bureau along with Luna and Neville on their wedding day.) He then gingerly placed the picture of Hermione on the desk, between the lamp and pile of books. His gut clenched painfully as he gazed at her happy face, so vivid and young. He smiled and ran a finger over the top of the frame before moving to go downstairs, remembering how she used to smile and chastise. He inhaled deeply as he reached the kitchen where Tonks had managed to burn a microwave dinner and Remus was scourgifying the remains of the mess, with an amused look on his face, as his wife apologized from her slumped seat at the table.

"So what was that about a teaching position Rem?" Harry inquired taking Tonks by surprise and Remus finished up cleaning with a flick of his wand.

Giving the younger man a thoughtful glance Remus pulled a second dinner out of the fridge and unwrapped it hastily. "Are you really interested in teaching, Harry?" He inquired as he stuffed the frozen tray into the microwave and adjusted the settings. Harry pulled a look.

"I've done it before haven't I?" Harry inquired rhetorically, "Why what would I be teaching?" Tonks frowned and plucked up the paper from the seat next to her.

She thumbed through it for a couple of minutes before smiling as she found the add. "English." She stated handing Harry the paper and pointing it out. Then as if undeterred by the mens planning. "So, how was the trip down?" She inquired easily. Harry stopped reading and looked at the woman warmly, her hair had changed to a blue color but was morphing back to its normal vibrant pink. "It was fine, I've never flown in a plane before so it was an experience." He answered as he glanced at the paper again. "How've the two of you been since I last heard from you?"

"We've been good, the baby is healthy." Remus nodded. Tonks scowled.

She huffed and folded her legs under her so she was sitting cross legged on the kitchen chair; "Yeah but I'm on paperwork duty till the little bugger's born." she prodded at her belly softly. "It's not like there are any real crimes around this little old town. Not so much as a speeding ticket to be handed out." she grumbled about her job at the precinct. She smiled then, "The only good part about it is that Chief Swann pays for my lunch!"

Harry chuckled at the woman as she prattled on about their daily lives and told him all about the different places he would find interesting and certain places to avoid. "There's La Push too. Nice Indian reservation, full of natural born shape shifters, Remus has yet to go meet up with them." Tonks stated sending her husband a scowl.

Remus smiled down at his wife as he placed the now hot frozen dinner in front of her. Instantly Tonks turned her attention to the mashed potatoes and left the conversation to the two men. Remus took the paper from Harry and looked over the add for the job one more time. "What did you say your M.A.T scores were again?" Muggle Aptitude Test Harry grimaced just thinking about the test he had been required to take upon entering the United States.

"Uh," Harry twiddled with the little golden hoop in his left ear in thought. "I think I scored exceptionally high in the history, English and foreign language sections." He shrugged. "I think, we can always dig the information out."

Remus smiled as Tonks moved on from the mashed potatoes to the chicken fingers. "True. I think you'll meet the qualifications easily."

* * *

Harry glowered at a stain on the counter as he scrubbed at it viciously. "Oh just die already!" He growled at it, having felt that he had worked at it far too long. He turned to the sink and rinsed the sponge of all of the suds before whipping down the counter and glaring at the now fading stain. He huffed a breath and some of his nearly shoulder length hair fell into his face. Harry had decided days ago that Remus and Tonks were useless at two main muggle activities. Cooking and cleaning. They were good enough when wands were involved but otherwise... He sighed again as he removed the hand towel from his shoulder and wiped down his hands. Turning back towards the living room, he rubbed his eyes as he remembered the laundry had to be folded. Feeling like a proper house wife Harry couldn't help but wish that the school board would hire him already so he could escape the messy confines of the house.

He tossed the towel onto the kitchen table and shuffled out of the kitchen, eager to get away from anything cleaning related. He fell back onto the couch and covered his eyes with his arm, he had applied for the job a week ago and was still waiting on an answer. He groaned and uncovered his eyes, and moved to pluck at his pajama bottoms. So far he'd vacuumed basically the entire house, cleaned up the basement from the last full moon, cleaned the kitchen, and done most of the laundry. He rubbed his eyes again. Maybe he could apply as a maid; he certainly had the job skills for it. The phone rang suddenly causing Harry to jump, He got off of the couch with a grunt and picked it up off of it's cradle. "Hello Lupin residence." Harry answered curtly, a bored tone lacing his voice.

"Hello." The woman sounded chipper, yet proper at the same time. "May I speak to a Mr. Harold Potter?" She inquired and Harry frowned, surely it couldn't be…

"I am Mr. Potter, may I ask who's calling?" He inquired with a nod of his head realizing half way through the gesture that the woman couldn't see him.

"Yes I'm Mrs. Wagoner, the secretary from Forks high school. I wanted to call to tell you that you've got the job you applied for." She stated happily.

Harry stood in shock leaning against the kitchen door frame heavily, a grin spread its way across his face. Making his way back into the living room he jumped onto the couch excitedly, "Really?" He inquired as he bounced up and down mildly on the abused piece of furniture much like a child.

Mrs. Wagoner laughed kindly, "Really Mr. Potter. You can come by tomorrow to gather your keys, and meet with Mr. Gresh again." Harry thanked the woman profusely before he hung up. Grinning in excitement Harry gave a particularly large last bounce, fully intent on landing unscathed on the floor. He however hit his head on the ceiling, and landed awkwardly on the floor.

Groaning, He leaned back and rubbed the top of his head. "Ow." Harry mumbled to himself as he picked himself up. Deliberating whether or not he should interrupt Remus at work to let him in on the good news. His fingers paused over the buttons, then with a heavy sigh and a flippant toss of his bangs he turned the phone on and dialed the supermarket's number.

It rang a couple of times while Harry paced in and out of the kitchen, "Joe's Supermarket this is Tracy speaking. How can I help you today?" The smacking of gum being chewed could be heard and he suppressed the urge to hang up and call later.

"Ah yes, Tracy could I speak to Remus Lupin if he's still on?" Tracy hummed then Harry heard her yelling for Remus.

"Hello?" Remus' voice made Harry smile, the man sounded rather frazzled.

"I got the job." Harry blurted out excitedly and he could literally hear Remus, stress fade from his frame. Harry started pacing around the circular kitchen table.

"Really? Harry that's fantastic! Oh we'll have to celebrate tonight, maybe that nice little Chinese restaurant that's in town." Harry hummed in agreement. Ignoring the nerves that were slowly settling themselves in his stomach, Harry dared to hope that with this job he would at least acquire a bit of normalcy.

* * *

Harry shuffled his papers again, just to look busy as his next class filed in. Harry's classroom was arranged so that the door was in the back of the room, and his desk was facing it from against the opposite wall. The kids acted normally enough he supposed as conversations were carried out while Harry readjusted his glasses, then a hush fell over the class that was present. Harry had to glance up to see the tall graceful pale boy that entered the room, His dark eyes scanned the room until they briefly met Harry's. They widened marginally and it looked as though he had smelled something especially foul. Harry glanced at the other students in confusion. They were all inadvertently staring or making themselves busy. A few were looking between Harry and the new boy. He shook his head.

Harry sighed as the tall boy took his seat still looking like he either wanted to kill Harry, or puke. He couldn't figure it out. Harry felt a gentle nudge at his mental shields and sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he glanced at the clock, deciding to ignore the mental prodding for the time being. Something told him that there was something off about this boy, there was just something in the words of his aunt Petunia, "Freakishly unnatural", about him. And Harry could help but feel that he should be reacting in a certain way to him.

In his lifetime, Harry had come in contact with various beautiful people and creatures. Of course a majority of the beauty he had come in contact had been aided of enhanced by some sort of magic or another. Usually to help the people or creatures with three basic needs such as food, defense and the reproduction of their race/species. The school bell rang and Harry stood with a smile and introduced himself. As if He hadn't noticed the boy that sat in the back of the class' odd behavior. He did notice that a couple of the girls started to giggle when he was speaking and the pale boy in the back gagged, left hand covering his mouth in an attempt to be subtle and the right gripping the table harshly.

Harry had even been in a couple of near fatal run ins with the more barbaric veela cousins in Alaska, and some irate water nymphs in northern Sweden. The later of the two had of course been the unwitting saviors of a small community of muggles by detaining one of Harry's past targets. The poor man had disrupted their seasonal migration patterns in a violent display of botched dueling. He picked up the role call clipboard. "Alright, I'm going to take roll," The two girls to on the left side of the room giggled again, blinking excessively. "When I call your name state here or present. Baker, Ashley?"

She was blond and slightly pudgy with pale skin, she raised her hand enthusiastically, "Here!" Harry smiled at her and moved onto the next person on his list almost mechanically. Even though he escaped most of his run ins relatively unscathed, if not a bit soggy, he had decided that he would rather not be lured to his death by something pretty thank you very much. He had invested in a vial of Veritisensus, an adapted veritiserum or truth serum that was intended not to force the truth out the drinker but to make the drinkers senses open up to the truth. It was developed in the late 1900's by Fward Madoc in an effort to put a stop to a mass production of fraudulent items that had been introduced to the market. The creators often using magic to disguise what the items really were.

"Carson, Elizabeth?" Harry called out and a brunette in the front row raised her hand, her shy smile directed at him.

"Present." She whispered. Fward believed that in order to overcome magical ruses of any kind, one must possess the very qualities they wanted to ignore. The result of his potion not only helped people with the economical crisis, but it also shielded the drinker from any magically enhanced creatures' talents and see of hear them for what they really were. Of course as with any muggle medicine the potion had some rather unwanted side affects, such as more feminine features in men, stunted growth or shrinking, animalistic behavior, and one case of male pregnancy was recorded (but later disproved). Fward's creation was labeled useless twenty years later and published in the book "Top 100 most useless potions and how to brew them." right next to a potion that would turn the drinkers legs into wood for a short period of time. The result of Harry taking this potion had been stunted growth and feminine features, though he now knew that sea sirens didn't sound as alluring without magic masking their voices. Really like a combination of choking noises and clicking.

"Cullen, Edward?" Harry inquired gaze lifting to meet the pale boys as he let out a choked answer. Harry stepped away from his leaning position on his desk and took a couple steps towards Edward, his face worried. "Mr. Cullen are you quite well?" When Edward hastily shook his head Harry nodded at him, "Alright, get yourself to the nurse, you don't need a pass." Harry waved him off and Edward took off like a shot, out the door. Harry continued on with the roll call unhindered, but something niggled at the back of his mind, Edward Cullen was definitely a mystery. A mystery Harry wasn't sure he wanted to tackle.

* * *

A week passed by and Edward's absence persisted, Harry chose to turn a blind eye on the situation seeing as it wasn't his business, and whatever happened would happen. Class went on without him and so did life, as it often did.

Harry blinked at the sudden appearance of an apple on the sheet of homework he had just been grading. And turned to look at the retreating back of Edward Cullen, "Thank you, Mr. Cullen. Harry said hesitantly, confusion coloring his voice and face as he picked up the chilly apple. "And its good to have you back." The tall pale boy took a seat in the middle of the classroom and nodded to Harry around his folded hands. Harry set the apple to the side and continued to grade as more students made their way into the class and took their seats. The bell rang minutes later and Edward was in the same position as he had been before. It was a sudden change, but it was like he'd never been gone at all. Harry sent him an unnerved glance, not yet having seen the boy blink. And passed out a wave of lined paper. "Today." Harry began his voice stopping all small talk that had been happening, "You are going to be writing me some simple poetry, I don't care about the subject as long as it's school appropriate. It doesn't have to rhyme, but it can't be two lines long. Make it a bit longer please. Does anyone have any questions?" No one raised their hands. Harry smiled brightly, "Good, well then get to it. Mr. Cullen." Harry addressed the still staring boy, whose head seemed to perk up at being called on.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" His voice was smooth and calm. Harry sank to one knee next the desk looking Edward in the eyes, they were topaz. Harry frowned, he could have sworn his eyes were darker last week. He waved it off, something to look into later. He seemed to be doing that often, putting things aside for later that is.

"You were absent last week and missed a lot of work, do you think you can complete this by Friday for me?" Harry inquired placing a stack of paper, mostly notes and a copy of the current book they would be reading.

Edward smiled as if he found something amusing eyes never leaving Harry's, "I'll try my best sir." He felt another mental prod and ignored it again, it wasn't strong and didn't feel malicious.

"Good." Harry nodded and rose from his kneeling position on the floor. "Let me know if you need help or have any questions alright?" Harry tossed over his shoulder. He didn't see the confused look that swept over Edward Cullen's face.

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Hey Thanks for reading! XP Review for me right? You know you'd like to. Tell me anything. I don't care if its about your toe fungus, or the color of your ceiling, Just review something!!!

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	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Twilight or Harry potter, if I did I wouldn't be writing this now would I?

**Note: **Oh my god. I wasn't expecting so many people to read and review. It was a massive surprise for me. I would like to say a quick thank you to all of those who told me the color of their ceiling or what their room looked like seeing as I don't have one…I live on a bike. Again thank you for reviewing and adding this to your favorites everyone. We had a number of interesting questions and I will take some time to address them. A few anyways, after the chapter so you'll actually pause to read them.

**SiriusBlackIsGod**: I just absolutely love your penname. You are fantastic.

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Defy the Stars

Chapter 2

Tonks was irritable, now normally when Tonks was in this particular mood Remus and Harry would do something to make her smile again or get her talking about whatever was bothering her. It was a collective effort on their part since the woman hated bringing them down with her own issues, claiming they had enough to deal with without her being stupid. But since her pregnancy had reached the twenty fourth week stage, and she could no longer clearly see her feet; her mood had started to fluctuate in a much more violent manner. It was so violent that, as Harry so insipidly described it when Tonks had stubbornly locked herself in the bathroom at three in the morning, it seemed to descend upon all those who witnessed it like a cloud of starved dementors. And nothing they did could change her destructively depressing ways while she was in full swing of her irritability.

It was under these conditions that found Remus and Harry taking shelter in a local café that bragged about it's late hours, both brooding over mugs of brown liquid. Well Remus was brooding.

Harry scowled at his cup, "I can't believe she kicked us out." he growled, sinking further into his seat clearly upset about what had transpired. Remus nodded and hummed in agreement, "I had papers to grade." he mumbled sipping his beverage loudly and then moving to pluck at his pajama pants and roll up his wet sweater sleeves. Remus just let out another hum and took a sip of his own drink. Harry sent the older man a mutinous look over the brim of his cup. "Are you even listening to me?" another hum and a sip.

Harry's left eyebrow was twitching and he spared an exasperated glace at the clock. It read quarter to eleven. He slowly moved the look back to his old friend, frustration seeping into the green gaze. Hair sticking up in odd places, with only his eyes visible over the steaming cup Harry was quite the disgruntled and dangerous sight to behold. Remus hummed and took another sip before gazing deeply into his half full mug. Harry's lips slowly curved into a devious smirk. Sitting up dramatically, tossing his head back and giving a theatrical gasp; Harry threw a hand over his eyes. His over dramatics were drawing the attention of a couple sitting in the corner booth, excellent. "Remus!" He exclaimed, not catching the man's attention at all, he instead got yet another hum and the man took yet another sip of his drink. "I simply cannot hold in my love any longer!" he glanced quickly at the still inattentive man and decided to step it up a notch, noticing that he still held the attention of the couple. "Your eyes, they shine with the passion of ten thousand suns, and your hair…" here Harry trailed off in a breathless tone and leaned forwards in his seat, eyes trained on Remus' still distant ones. Remus let out a hum and picked up his mug. "Your way with words has me captivated." Harry stood up abruptly, dropped himself onto Remus' lap and wound his arms around his neck, startling the man out of his reverie. "Welcome back to the world of the living Rem." Harry grinned at him.

Remus looked from the still sloshing cup of coffee in his hands to Harry in his lap. "Good to be back, what did I miss?" Remus inquired amused tilt on his lips. Apparently used to Harry's odd methods of regaining his attention. The last time being a declaration of his undying passion for toes, before he violently removed the socks of everyone in the room.

"Oh just the scandal of the century, apparently you and I are having an affair while your wife is preggers and quite oblivious to the whole situation." He paused to smile charmingly at Remus, "And we've just had a passionate confession on my part in the middle of a very public café." Harry stated making himself more comfortable on Remus' lap.

Grinning openly Remus took a final swig of his now nearly empty cup, "Oh how very naughty of us." Remus then started to chuckle, just as the door to the café swung open violently to reveal a very wet Tonks. Her face was distraught and her hair, usually a vibrant pink, had dulled considerably and she choked on a sob as she caught sight of Remus. Harry removed himself from Remus' lap and stood leaning against the small circular table, anticipating what usually came after these outbursts. Remus stood and opened his arms to his wife who with another gut wrenching sob threw herself at him, muttering apologies into his still damp jacket and soaking him further.

"-shouldn't have threatened- was wrong- horrible person- oh god how can you stand-" Remus rubbed circles on her back and guided her to his abandoned chair, giving Harry a pleading look. Harry grinned in return and squatted down next to the distraught woman.

"Tonks?" The sniffling woman looked up at Harry with a remorseful expression. "I just wanted you to know that damp clothes and a late night trip to a café could hardly change how either one of us feels for you." He then adopted a mock thoughtful expression, "Although I did fall madly in love with your husband and his silent brooding ways. I'm afraid I might have to steal him from you." Harry shifted his eyes to look at her confused face as she looked between the two of them.

"What?" She inquired voice still holding a slight waver.

Remus massaged the bridge of his nose and turned away; mumbling something akin to "the love of Merlin's shiny blue shorts".

"Aye. It be true, Your mysterious Remus has stolen my heart," Harry rambled on about the finer points of Remus for another couple of minutes in a bad Irish accent "and I shall battle you-" Her mouth curved into a smile "To the death for his affectio- hey Ow!" Harry recoiled and sat on the tile floor massaging his upper arm, where Tonks had solidly punched him while grinning. "Alright I yeild!" Harry relented shielding his arm from her amused gaze.

Tonks snorted and pulled Remus' free arm into a hug from her seated position. Remus sighed and attempted to act exasperated. "That's right, he's mine, so back off." she glared at Harry playfully, "You guys are too much. Is that why you were sitting in his lap?" At Harry's wary nod she burst into a fit of giggles. "And I really am sorry about throwing you out, I was…being stupid." She apologized again and both men looked at each other before they both burst into simultaneous reassurances, causing Tonks to brighten again.

* * *

Harry sat on the couch bent over the mountain of homework, which had yet to be graded, with a frustrated look on his face as he encountered his fourth piece of poetry written like a text message. He scowled and wrote a comment on their piece deciding not to grade it until they rewrote the darned thing. Stuffing it into the smallest of his three piles, Harry felt the couch sink next to him and he turned his gaze on to Tonks. The girl had snatched one of the homework pages and was scanning it over with interest. "Tonks?" Harry inquired, looking over Mike Newton's sonnet with mild interest. It was about sports, and Harry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at it.

"I want to help out." Tonks stated pulling a pen off of the table and marking something on the paper. "We're just looking for grammar and spelling right?" She confirmed even as she continued to mark the paper.

Harry smiled at her, "Yes we are." He paused as he calculated the final grade. "Thank you for helping me Tonks." he added sincerely letting exhaustion seep into his voice.

"No problem Harry, I'll just mark them wrong for you then you can do that grade thing that you do." she waved the paper in her hand around before placing it on the table next to the ones Harry needed to grade. "It is kind of my fault that you aren't done yet anyways." She mumbled and Harry decided to leave that statement alone lest he upset the pregnant woman again. They worked in relative silence for at least ten minutes until Tonks broke it. "I never asked," she started, pausing as if not quite sure how phrase her question. "What you did exactly after," She trailed off and Harry placed his red pen on the table, knowing exactly what she wanted to hear.

"After Hermione died." Harry clarified for her, his breathing hitched. There he had said it out loud, Hermione died. He wrung his hands together as Tonks put her own paper down to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You don't have to-" she protested but Harry waved her off.

Taking a deep breath he continued. "I actually need to. It helps somewhat," He paused and leaned forwards into a more comfortable position. "After she died, Ron and I needed to distract ourselves. Distance ourselves from what had happened. Well we thought we did, but looking back I suppose that was the coward's way out. The way we decided to distract ourselves probably wasn't the best way either." Harry snorted as he remembered. "It had been foggy; the humidity had made it hard to breathe-"

* * *

The vivid green scenery flashed by in a similar fashion to a strobe light as Harry apparated forwards undetermined distances at a time running at intervals before apparating again using the momentum to surge forwards when he next appeared. He kept his senses trained on the vibrant red head of Ron and the taller emaciated form that the two had been following. Dolohov was a spell smith, and had had an active role in the creation of an irreversible hex that ultimately killed Hermione. The effects of the curse had resembled Parkinson's disease and had shut the young woman down from the inside out.

He snarled as he leveled himself with the man, green eyes blazing into murky brown ones. The man's long sneering face disappeared with a snap to be a mile or so ahead of Harry. Ron appeared level with him for a moment then moved ahead with the customary crack of apparation, a steely look on his face. Harry followed after him to discover that not only had Ron apparated in front of the brown haired man but had apparently elbowed the deatheater in the face. Dolohov's nose had a trickle of blood making it's way to his chin, a snarl twisting it's path bleakly. Then the hexes flew. Ron was the frontal assault, curses and hexes spilling from his wand and when he got close enough one of his appendages would collide with an unguarded portion of the opposing man's body. Harry circled around keeping the opponent between Ron and himself, his own hexes flying at the man. It was a curious dance, Dolohov stood sideways, dueling the both of them at the same time. Ron's face was a mask of rage; his thoughts were barely coherent.

"Two against one?" Dolohov snarled as he ducked under one of the two simultaneous curses thrown at him, getting hit by a hex, that made his legs lock up. "And I thought I was underhanded…" He chuckled inanely to himself undoing the hex with a simple waving motion of his wand. The man fired back a crucio then twisted to throw a second hex at Harry, only to be knocked off balance by a kick to the knee courtesy of an enraged red head. The lanky brunette apparated behind the offending Weasley and hit him with a concentrated stinging curse. Ron dropped to his knees breathless and Harry sent a stunning curse at the still standing Death eater. His aim was off by mere centimeters, the man hardly flinched. Dolohov's feet were pulled out from under him by the recovering man on the ground and he apparated on his way down to come back between Harry and Ron. The dance resumed.

Flashes of his deceased best friend paraded around under his eyelids. A feeling bubbled inside of Harry's chest, slowly working its way up. "All of this for some poor, dead, mudblood?" Dolohov cackled in between a cutting curse directed at Harry and blocking an unidentified one from Ron. Ron's effort to take the man down doubled, and became sloppier at the remark. His ears grew red and Dolohov hit Harry with a spell. The black headed man felt his limbs grow numb and weighted, his breathing labored.

"What's happening to me?" Hermione's panicked voice reached his ears, her face a mixture of shock then somber understanding when he blinked. He stumbled forwards.

"Harry?!"

"No use boy, he's most likely descending into insanity as we speak." An insane giggle, "Lost to his own mind."

Harry's vision tunneled, and Ron's scream of rage was cut short by an explosive spell. The red head smacked into a tree, his muggle attire smoking and the smell of burning flesh permeated the air. "Unbelievable." Dolohov laughed nastily, pacing over to the trembling Harry. His voice becoming distant to the black haired boy as he said something nasty before moving back to Ron. Harry's mind was struggling, his shields pushing and pulling at the dark cloud of foreign magic longing to kick it from their interiors.

Her wide smile burned through his mind again, "Can you believe it Harry? Ron's just proposed!" Another change in expression, she was now a pale unhealthy looking woman on her death bed. Bright intelligent eyes peered back from their sunken position, filled with intelligence, fear.

His body convulsed violently as the spell was forcefully removed from his body. The visions of Hermione filtered away from him, leaving a prickling sensation behind his eye lids. His mind was weary and his body was still heavy, as if he were underwater. Harry grit his teeth at the stench in the clearing.

Dolohov's breath was heavy. Harry's eyes flickered from his unconscious best friend to the deatheater not several feet away from himself. The man was looking quite pleased with himself as he leaned over Ron, wand at the ready and killing curse on his lips. The bubbling feeling in his chest rose to his throat and Harry heard a scream as he slashed his wand in the man's direction. Only after the brilliant green light hit his opponent did he realize that the scream, had come from him. The tattered, limp body of Dolohov crumpled to the forest floor, his eyes dull and accusing. Harry fell to his knees, throbbing pain working through his body, as his adrenaline began to subside. He looked down to realize he had been hit by multiple spells, gashes ran across him and he was covered in his own blood.

* * *

Harry let out a shaky breath as he looked up at Tonks, who was smiling gently. "It can't be easy for you to talk about all that." she murmured still rubbing his back, and Harry imagined her hand hurt.

"Its not," he agreed, trying to quell his queasy stomach. "But I would like to not wallow in self pity for the rest of my life; God only knows I did enough of that going through puberty." Harry paused as Tonks hummed in agreement. "HEY! You weren't supposed to agree with me! What sort of friend are you anyways?"

"The good kind." was all he got out of the pink haired woman before she slapped his back and got up to make her way upstairs, "Now go to bed Harry you have classes tomorrow."

Harry smiled widely, a small weight having lifted off of his chest. He would hear from Ron tomorrow, he was in Texas last time he'd sent word.

* * *

The eraser tapped heavily against the still un-graded stack of homework, and Harry sighed quietly. Edward had developed a habit of sorts over the past week in class; he would just stare at Harry without moving, without blinking. At first he had thought Edward was just extremely attentive in class, he even went so far as to inquire about Edward's behavior in his other classes. It was the first week he had had the Cullen boy in his class after all, but after three consecutive days of the unsettling topaz gaze Harry had become a giant ball of nerves. He couldn't look the young man in the eyes without starting to stumble over his own words, and blushing brightly at his verbal mistakes. Apparently Edward found this little trait amusing, because every time it happened, a slow grin would add itself to the intense stare that was only for Harry.

Recalling that particular look with surprising clarity; Harry found himself staring at the large pile, trying to repress a shudder. It was a Thursday, and Harry was rather distracted, and had been all day. His eyes burned and he blinked, acutely aware of the topaz stare that was directed at him from over the top of, _Wuthering Heights_. But Edward's 'Harry watching' was the last thing the young teacher was worried about at the present moment.

It was _Thursday_. Though his eyes were distant, his face was running through a range of emotions as scenarios ran through his head, hidden from the almost constant gentle prodding at his shields. He pushed away the prodding, knowing full well it was one of his students. He had his theories, natural mind reader being one of them (they were uncommon in the muggle world, though not unlikely), but he resolved himself to not making any more trouble than he already had. He owed Remus that much. His mind strayed back to the problem at hand.

Ron usually sent him an update on his situation every other Wednesday. But this week there had been nothing, no call, no letter, no word of mouth from his sister, nothing. The pencil's tapping upped in speed as a frustrated look glanced over his features. He highly doubted the man could use a house elf as an excuse either.

His watch beeped twice, and Harry jumped in surprise. The class started stuffing their belongings into their bags, small talk that had been whispered and careful during the supposed silent reading assignment, bubbled up in volume. "Alright, no homework tonight, I've heard that there's a quiz in Biology tomorrow and I want you to be awake for my class after all of that studying." Harry announced, pulling himself out of his slumped position to stand and walk around his desk hoping for a semblance of professional dignity. The class chattered happily as the bell rang and they all began moving to the door, except the one student whose gaze Harry had been avoiding.

The boy had slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and was standing in front of him, just staring, as the last lingering student made their way out of the room. "Are you alright?" He paused as Harry's green eyes habitually shifted to look at him. The look was distant at best, distracted as he had been all class period. "Harry?" He inquired using his teacher's first name when his presence did not elicit a response after a minute or so. The name rolled off of his tongue smoothly. Harry blushed almost instantly as he noticed Edward standing in front of him.

"What?" Harry sputtered blinking rapidly as if to clear the haze in front of his eyes.

Edward stepped a bit closer, concern working its way into his features. "I asked if you were alright, Harry." The man in question blinked again.

"I'm fine, Mr. Cullen. Just a bit distracted is all." Harry managed to choke out after a few seconds, red tinge still staining his cheeks. Edward's unblinking gaze was once again joined by that infernal grin. "And I would prefer it if you wouldn't call me by my first name," Harry stepped away from the taller boy gripping the edge of the desk lightly. "it's disrespectful." he finished, sounding more determined. Edwards grin was replaced by a small frown.

"My apologies, Mr. Potter." He drawled, not sounding at all like he meant it.

Harry sighed deciding he wouldn't chase after a sincere apology when he obviously wasn't going to get one, "Was there something you needed Mr. Cullen?" he inquired peering over his wire framed glasses. He had put them on in an attempt to see what he was supposed to be grading.

The frown deepened, "Edward." he stated.

"Excuse me?" Harry sounded mildly confused. As Edward smiled at the look on the others face.

"Call me Edward." he demanded softly, still smiling in a small secret way.

"Alright Edward…was there something you wanted?" Harry repeated feeling rather awkward calling one of his students by their first name. The grin reappeared and Harry retreated behind his desk to gather his things, the bell signaling the start of his lunch period.

Grin diminishing to a small quirk of the lips, Edward took a step forward to lean on the desk casually, watching what Harry did. "I've finished with the diamante, but I'm still having an issue with the sonnet." He explained, and Harry looked up at him, emerald eyes questioning.

"What sort of problems?" He stood, dusting his black slacks off before picking up his satchel. "Just write about something you take seriously. It could be love, religion, anything at all." Harry elaborated, feeling very much the part of a teacher as he motioned for Edward to walk with him still slightly uneasy around the taller teen.

Edward breathed a sigh, as if he had just cleared a hurtle and was facing a thousand more. "I know who I want to write about, but the problem is I know next to nothing about them." His eyes darted from Harry to the hallway in front of them as they made their way slowly to the exit of the building.

Harry gave a silent 'oh' of understanding, being reminded strongly of when Ron had asked something of a similar nature. His chest clenched with worry but he forced himself to concentrate on his student. "You're interested in someone," Harry elaborated out loud, head nodding slowly as he spoke.

Edward's shoulders tensed slightly and he fiddled stiffly with his shoulder strap, almost as if he was forcing himself to act like that. "Intrigued would be more accurate." Edward corrected. Cracking a knowing smile, Harry tilted his head as if to ask 'really?'; the gesture was ignored by the taller boy.

They walked slowly by a group of people that, due to the similar paleness and topaz eyes, Harry deigned to be Edward's siblings. They were all looking in different directions; one of the boy's lips were moving quickly, his eyes focused just above the head of the smallest girl. Harry shook his head and turned his attention back to his pupil.

"Well why don't you just talk to this person." his eyes left the group too late to see Edwards's lips moving in a similar fashion, face aggravated.

Edward's expression morphed back into his normal stoic one, "I have spoken to them, but I haven't asked the questions I would like." He said honest tone coloring his voice. "It would seem a little..." He paused searching for a word.

Harry hummed thoughtfully feeling a wave of calm that he attributed to seeing a more casual side of the unnerving teen. "Yes that can be awkward and nerve wracking." Harry smiled and turned back to his pupil, when an idea came to mind, granted it wasn't a good idea but better than nothing. "I hear that practice makes perfect, or something like that." He paused as Edward turned his eyes onto the teacher, inquiry clear on his face. "How about you," he paused feeling a sense of dread at his decision but quickly shoved it away, what could it hurt? "practice what you want to say on me, after school, until you think you have the nerve to tell this person how you feel. And we'll count that as your sonnet. We'll start tomorrow, Deal?" Harry stuck out his hand to shake Edward's. The hesitant look on Edwards face made him think back on when he had attempted to ask Cho Chang out. He nearly winced at the past disaster. Yes, this was definitely what he would have wanted, help.

Edward's eyes stared into his for a long moment before he blinked and smiled widely, "Deal." Edward's snow cold hand gripped Harry's firmly, a shock of electricity seemed to flow through his arm at the younger boy's touch, and they shook hands slowly. Suspicion slowly wound it's way through Harry's mind, and he couldn't help but think that this was going to be a bad idea. There was something about Edward Cullen that struck a chord, there was something he thought he ought to remember.

* * *

Harry had tried calling everyone with a phone. His main goal was to check the clock in the Burrow to see if Ron was in mortal peril. Mrs. Weasley being away for the week in Romania did nothing to help his endeavors, and the fact that most of her children had moved out and farther away from her didn't help either. So it was only logical that he found himself calling the only Weasley with a telephone in their house.

The phone rang a second time. Leaning against the kitchen counter Harry jut his jaw out slightly and glared at the kitchen ceiling. "C'mon Ginny." He urged his leg now wiggling nervously. He cussed when the third ring was cut off by Ginny's voicemail.

"You've reached the Malfoy residence; We're out visiting Grandma and Grandpa Malfoy for the day. Leave your name and number and we'll get back to you." A beep sounded afterwords and Harry huffed out another cuss. This encouraged a disapproving frown from Remus at the kitchen table and a raised brow from his wife who sat next to him.

Ginny hardly went by the surname Weasley anymore, not after marrying her not so longtime boyfriend, Draco Malfoy. The two had dated on and off again during and after the war. After Harry had distanced himself from Ginny she had found solace in Draco, the relationship was rocky and full of rifts and boundaries. By no means was it an easy match, and though they constantly fought, argued and broke up. They always ended up back together. (1)

"Hey Ginny, it's Harry. I just wanted to know if you've heard from Ron recently, because the git hasn't sent me any word yet. Um… give me a call at Remus' house around four or so. Tomorrow if you get this by then. Hope you had a happy trip." Harry didn't bother to say goodbye as he hit the end button on the phone. His eyes drooped dispiritedly as he dropped himself into the last open chair unceremoniously. An owl would take at least two weeks to get there, and there weren't any floo systems in town or anywhere in the country really.

America was still relatively new to colonization of conventional witches and wizards. The country had smatterings of the colonies in obscure places, while the rest of the magical community consisted of voodoo practitioners and wiccans. The Wiccan practice was actually rather cutting edge, yet the small communities lacked the luxuries of the European wizarding culture. The current American wizard government wasn't very powerful or influential and over the short amount of time it had reigned it had grown weak and bankrupt. It therefore didn't have the power to have floo systems installed around the country.

Remus squeezed Harry's shoulder reassuringly, "It's probably nothing. He's probably so close to your target he can't afford to send out owls or risk exposure."

Harry hadn't seemed to have heard the werewolf. "What are the chances that the only two people who can get to the clock almost immediately, are away visiting family?" He ran a hand through his mussed up hair. "It's like a badly written soap opera." he finished in exasperation.

Tonks' eye brows furrowed, "They write opera's about soap?" she inquired to herself, quite confused.

"He meant a sitcom, love." Remus elaborated quietly, Tonks still looked confused, he let out a sigh. "I'll explain it later."

Harry looked back up at Remus. "You're probably right." He stated more to convince himself to stay put than anything else, "It probably is nothing."

* * *

He didn't know how the teen had done it, and truthfully Harry didn't want to know how he had convinced him to go along with this. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard nervously and clutched the sides of the seats tightly as Edward whizzed around a corner going well over the speed limit. "You know," Harry nearly squeaked as they squealed around the corner and Edward revved the engine. He could swear he saw the boy grinning out of the corner of his eye. "We could've done this whole inquisition back at the school."

Humming, Edward seemed to consider this, "So what brought you to Forks?" Harry cringed as they zoomed through a yellow light. So much for consideration.

"I needed a," He paused to press himself further into the seat as they sped up to make it through a green light, "change." He actually did squeak that time, emerald eyes wide. Edward chuckled at his English teacher's antics.

Harry was used to faster speeds, but only while he was in control and not surrounded by a metal frame that was malleable at said high speeds. He may have been biased about it, but he was certain that quidditch was far safer than driving this fast.

Edward nodded at that, still grinning to himself, it was a solid enough answer. "Change of?" he prompted and Harry's left eye twitched upwards as they advanced on a particularly sharp corner.

"Why did I agree to let you drive?!" Harry gasped out as the Volvo slid around the corner. "Or to any of this at any rate?" He glowered at his student.

"You seemed uncomfortable at the school." He paused casually as they passed a sign that read Port Angeles. "Is my driving that bad?" his lips tipped into a frown.

"You could bloody well slow down." Harry hissed through his clenched teeth. "And I wasn't uncomfortable, just distracted." He heaved a sigh, which explained how Edward got him into his car at any rate. Edward slowed down, noticeably forlorn at the loss of speed. Harry relaxed into his seat, still shifting his eyes warily to the speedometer.

"What did you need a change of?" Edward queried. Harry sighed; the boy was like a dog with a bone.

"Scenery, culture." Harry waved a hand, "You pick." Lies, he knew it, and it felt like Edward did too.

The rest of the car ride was held captive by a mind numbing silence only broken by a question on Edward's part, nothing important. Things like, "Do you like it here?" and "Have you taught before?"

About twenty minutes later they had stopped at a restaurant somewhere on the edge of Port Angeles, as Edward had insisted that they eat. While Harry perused through the menu, Edward was peering at him thoughtfully. "What's your favorite color?" The question came out of nowhere and Harry found himself looking up so quickly his neck cracked.

Harry blinked and Edward raised an eyebrow. "Uhm…red I guess." Harry shrunk behind his menu, reminding himself that Edward was supposed to ask him things like this. It was the whole point of them being here.

"What kind of music do you listen to?" Edward shot out next eyes boring into the menu in front of Harry's face.

Harry took a deep breath and put the menu down. "A little of everything I suppose." Harry shrugged and Edward nodded, looking pleased. The waitress was with them shortly and Harry couldn't help but notice that she was talking solely to Edward while they ordered. Harry got a water and a salad, Edward ordered the same.

The questions kept coming, all little things, until Harry started to fire them back. "Do you live alone?" Harry raised a brow at this question.

"No, why do you want to know?" He inquired back leaning back in his chair, slightly perturbed by the sudden prodding of his private life. He stopped his train of thought; the boy was envisioning another student who caught his eye in school, not himself. He had no reason to be disturbed by the question, though it was an odd question to ask of a student...

"I don't-" He sighed and a ran an aggravated hand through his hair, "We shouldn't be doing this…" he glowered at the table cloth.

Harry sat up straight a frown on his face. "Edward?" He inquired and the boy's scowl deepened, "You're doing so well! You're making conversation that's not - if you give up now-" Harry couldn't think of any reason he should continue. He grasped at random ideas but didn't voice them, this resulted in some sort of sputtering noise and emerald eyes flickering up to the ceiling for confirmation. "What about that person you wanted to talk to?!" he blurted this out, unable to think of a reason for the taller teen to stay, or why it was so important that he did.

Edward looked up at Harry, his face expressionless. Harry clicked his mouth shut and he glowered at the wall behind Edward's head, frustrated at his own behavior. Edward opened his own mouth, but was cut off by the loud vibration of Harry's cell phone. Shooting Edward an apologetic look Harry flipped the phone open "Hello?"

"Harry, It's Remus." Remus' voice breathed in relief "Thank god I found you. You weren't at the school, and Tonks and I thought-" Remus prattled for a second before he stopped himself.

"I'm okay Rem." Harry stated glancing at Edward, who had fallen into his new habit of Harry watching, even as the waitress set their food down on the table. "What's going on?" he inquired a serious look forming on his face.

"Ginny called," Harry sucked in a breath and Edward's lips turned down slightly, eyes flashing in curiosity.

"How is she?" he asked, worry plain in his voice and he missed the deepening frown on Edward's face.

"Pretty well considering the circumstances…" Remus trailed off, message clear in his voice. Ron was missing.

"Ron." Harry squeezed the bridge of his nose. With a loud exhale Harry nodded at the phone. "Alright, I'm coming home Remus." Edward sat up straighter in his seat a look of confusion on his face.

The two hung up without saying anything, nothing needed to be said. Harry pulled out his wallet and slapped a twenty on the table next to his untouched salad. "Sorry to talk and run Mr. Cullen." Harry smiled slightly, eyes dim at the information he had just received. "I'll see you on Monday in class, alright?" He walked away from the table swiftly and pushed out of the door. Edward's eyes were wide and he pulled out his own money and pushed it to the waitress who had meandered over at the sight of the smaller of the men leaving. He scrambled his way after the green eyed teacher, intent on driving the man back to Forks.

Harry rounded a corner into an alleyway and, looking both directions to make sure he was clear, apparated. He popped into Remus' living room startling the pink haired witch on the couch. "Harry! Where were you?" she inquired a slight panic to her voice. She stood from the couch and hurried around it to get a good look at the black haired boy.

"Port Angeles. I'm fine Tonks I was just…tutoring a student." He paused mid sentence making Tonk's raise an eyebrow before it flew went back down, her face darkening.

Harry yelped when her hand made contact with the back of his skull. "Don't ever do that again!" she scolded as Remus made his way into the living room from the kitchen, looking older than he had in weeks. Harry realized with a pang, that it was getting close to the full moon.

"The clock said mortal peril." Remus intoned.

"I figured as much." Harry nodded, shifting to head upstairs, intent on changing clothing before port keying his way over to the Malfoy residence.

* * *

Harry landed with a thump on his butt. He glowered at the sock that lay on the well polished marble floor near his left foot. He stood up shakily, inwardly cussing out his decision to travel by wizarding means, even if it was quicker this way. He took several deep breaths, and walked briskly to the main stairwell, sighing at the multitude of them before beginning his climb.

He reached the top and turned a left, intent on getting to Draco's study. The silver inlaid knives clinked together on his hip as he walked, sounding almost like glass. And his dragon hide tunic glinted slightly in the magical lighting. Form fitting pants hardly made a sound as he whisked his way down the hall, eyes serious and mouth twisting into a thoughtful frown.

He came to the door, a large ornate one and Harry had to suppress an eye roll at Draco's self indulgence. He pushed through the door to find a small number of people loitering around the study. The room was large enough that they all had their personal space, Harry nodded at the occupants in general. His eyes whisked over the twin's fiery red hair tussled, most likely from rushing over as well. Their lanky forms had filled out somewhat to be the muscular build of a basketball player. Harry liked to attribute that to their quidditch days.

He then glanced at Luna and Neville. The two were seated on the love seat, Luna's heavily scarred arms were on display in the tank top that she wore, the spirals jaggedly making their way up her arms to disappear beneath the grey cloth. Neville had also filled out, his baby fat gone, and his muscular frame stood roughly five ten.

Next was Bill, the curse and ward breaker. He looked the same as ever, pale scars making their way across his face, from his experience with Fenrir years ago. Finally he glanced at the head of the room, where Draco sat behind the mahogany desk, long silvery blond hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Grey eyes boring into Harry, in an almost hostile way. Harry gave the man a nod of recognition and the Malfoy heir's face relaxed slightly. Ginny stood next to him and Harry couldn't help but look at her face. Dark brownish pinks cars extended outwards from her eyes, the bleak clouded grey orbs peered sightlessly back at the world. Ginny had been blind since the turning point of the war when Bellatrix Lestrange had shot a flesh eating curse at her face. Luckily she had made it to Saint Mungo's in time to save her life, but not her eyes.

"Well are you just going to stand in the doorway and gawk, or are you going to join in on the meeting, Potter." Draco's rich aristocratic tones floated to him and with a flush, Harry closed the door to the study.

* * *

Harry paced the crumbling stone wall perimeter of Ron's last hide out. He blinked at it, it was most likely the remains of a burned down farm house. He glanced back at Ginny who was walking steadily behind him, metal cane stretched out in front of her, the Texan sunset lighting up her features. Fred and George had gone below to the basement to scout ahead. "So, how are Remus and Tonks now a days." Ginny inquired, a deceptively serene look on her face. "I never got to ask." The conversation was forced, uneasy and meant to distract.

Harry hummed, the tactic lost on him, he stepped over some debris that had been barely visible in the shadow of the old house. "They're doing well. Tonks is getting bigger." Harry paused to look over his shoulder. "They moved into a small muggle town, everybody is up in everybody else's business. So they haven't used magic in months." he snorted and Ginny let out a giggle. "They can hardly take care of themselves without it." he elaborated without need.

"That has to be killing them," Ginny shook her long red hair, sightless eyes staring straight at Harry. "Those two are hopeless when it comes to cooking without magic."

"Harry! Ginny!" Fred poked his head up from the ruined stairs, "You two better come have a look at this." His voice was serious. Harry's breath hitched nervously, he felt Ginny's hand settle gently on his shoulder.

"We'll find him, Harry." she promised in a steady voice and Harry calmed himself. They picked their way through the ruined ground floor of the charred house. Ginny's gloved hand held securely in Harry's bare one.

The basement was untouched the floor was mostly loose sand, a small camp fire set up in the center. Some rumpled blankets nearby, the walls were lined with shelves, and the contents of the shelves were strewn about on the edges of the sandy floor. Some of the glass jars had broken open, and flies had flocked to the spilled preserves, but that wasn't the only thing that had attracted them. Harry could feel his leather gauntlets heat up the runes embedded in them glowing. He had acquired the accessories from Luna, just after the war.

George was leaning over the crumpled form of a little girl, she looked around eight, bloated from time and heat. Her skin was pale, and her throat had been bitten into; most likely crushed. Ginny left Harry's side pulling off her gloves, hand outstretched towards the girl. Fred spoke up again. "Aside from the obvious," His pointed look grazed the small corpse, "There was a struggle here. By the glowing your gauntlets are doing, Harry, it looks like dark spells were cast here."

Her hands hovering above the girl, Ginny sighed softly, "So young." Harry turned to look at her.

"How'd she die?" He inquired, knowing Fenrir would have torn the girl's throat out.

Ginny swept her hands through the air above the girl and started to move along the walls towards the shelves. "Vampires." she stated evenly, eyes moving even though she could not see. Because of the permanent loss of her sight, Ginny's magic had made it possible for her to see the recent past of items and people. A useful skill, but her getting used to it had been a rather traumatic experience. "There were three of them." she explained still moving slowly around the perimeter of the room, hands hovering and brushing against objects. She stopped and hissed at a crushed portion of the shelves. "They came with Mcnair." she paused and Fred and George's faces hardened.

"Necromancer," Fred intoned hatefully.

"I hate necromancers." George spat.

"Has he gotten any better?" Harry inquired slightly amused by the twins obvious dislike for the deatheater. The man was known for dabbling in Necromancy, the raising of the dead. He viewed himself as an artist, a puppeteer. The last time they had faced off he had had an army of poorly controlled dead villagers and some not so fuzzy woodland creatures. He was more of a nuisance than he was a threat, at the time. Due to the villagers bumping into each other they had been relatively easy to fight off, the critters, however…

Frowning deeply, Ginny shook her head. "Hard to tell, he didn't use his talents while capturing Ron." suddenly she whirled, "Wait." the word was almost exhaled, blank eyes wide as she moved out towards the center of the room. "He did. He got better." her face twisted into a frown.

Fred's eyes narrowed, "How good did he get?" His tone was spiteful, though Harry couldn't blame him, he still bore scars from the undead squirrels that he had helped exterminate two years before hand.

Ginny knelt to the ground, running her hand through the sand, "Good enough to spread his influence to three Vampires." The boys inhaled deeply. Few necromancers in history had been able to influence the undead's decisions. Because of the scarcity in that particular field of knowledge, there was little to be said about it in most books, but many theories did float around (mainly in the Quibbler, as it was the only newspaper to focus on the obscure) about it being linked to occlumency and legimency.(2)

George hissed out a cuss, smacking a fist into the wall nearest to him. "This just got complicated."

Stepping to stand next to his twin, Fred nodded solemnly "We need to let the others in on this." He gestured to the room with a sweep of his arm. Ginny stood and let the sand slowly run to the ground from her fingers a final time.

The two Weasley boys turned their gaze onto Harry, who had been quiet for some time now, "You coming Harry?" George turned back to the smaller wizard, inquisitive. His siblings hesitantly climbed up the stairs, glancing back every so often as he continued to help his sister out of the basement.

"No…you guys go on ahead, I'll meet you at the house." Harry intoned waving The older boy off with fake cheer. George glanced at him skeptically, and with a pop apparated to his siblings. Harry glanced around the room until he found Ron's backpack. Lifting the frayed beaten knapsack he peered into it sadly, catching sight of several of Ron's most cherished possessions. He slung it over his shoulder before taking another look around the room, wincing when he caught sight of the little girl. His eyes filled with remorse for her short life. He turned around messy head of curls drooped, but face determined, he didn't spare a second glance backwards as he popped out of existence.

* * *

(1) Alright concerning Draco, I tampered with his standing in the war. He became a spy after Snape killed Dumbledore, knowing he would never be able to be an outstanding deatheater with his squeamish disposition. While he was fighting for the light, Ginny and he began dating, at first it was slightly spiteful on both parts (Draco was dating Ginny to spite Harry seeing as the two still had animosity between them. Ginny to spite her brothers who wouldn't take her seriously.) but they grew to like each other and eventually a very tentative love. As for the grandma and grandpa comment, they do have a child. He's almost a year old by this point. Yes they are married. Malfoy wouldn't conceive a child out of wed lock, bad publicity.

(2) Alright so Mcnair is a necromancer. He brings dead things back to life and uses them as puppets. Now not all necromancers are evil. I would like to press upon that fact. But he is. Now about the influencing of the decisions of the undead, because vampires have wills of their own necromancers can't take them over completely, just manipulate feeling or opinions that are already there to their advantage. Go home team go.

So anyhow, we all know that a majority of the wizarding world is quite prejudiced. I imagine that vampires are not to fond of being treated like lesser beings, especially by things they could over power easily (and eat). So the feelings of contempt for wizards working for the government (or so they think) that works to suppress them would already have been harbored, and intensified by Mcnair's abilities. Again they are not, will-less puppets, just not so thoroughly manipulated pawns.

**Devil4life** and** Pheonix Immortal **were just two people who brought up **Harry's age**, I did mention it once while he was unpacking; Harry is **twenty one**. Not too much older than Edward to cause problems.

**Fire Dolphin** asked a number of very interesting questions, and I'll try to answer most of them without giving to much away.

**What happen to Bella, u mention her dad, but nothing else.**

The story takes place in the beginning of the year that Bella moves to Forks. She isn't there yet, but she's well on her way. I might have tweaked the story line a bit to benefit myself. But I do recall her coming in in the middle of the year or something like that.

**Can Edward smell Remus on Harry, considering that Remus is a werewolf?**

I liked this question, I liked it a lot. He can, but he doesn't recognize it. Remus is only a werewolf once a month, he fights against the beast inside of him, he can't change at will like Jacob can. Because he was not born a werewolf/shape shifter and is only truly one with his wolf side once a month; the scent is not only different but weaker the farther away the full moon is. Remus in the first chapter, has had at least a week and a half since his last full moon. The full moon comes around once a month so he still has a while until the smell gets really potent, trust me I have lunar charts just to keep up with myself…

And finally **maggi22211** also asked a couple of questions. I'll answer my favorites that are probably going to remain obscure.

**When did the war end?**

That much I didn't change. The war ended when Harry was seventeen, and it ended in the same way that it did in the books. Not too complex, we just lost a couple extra people and kept some others. And some pairings are different. But other than that!! Nothing is different.

**Why are Remus and Tonks in Forks? **

Because I said so. No not really there is a reason. The war is over, but imagine all of those painful memories, reminders of all that you have lost and won't gain back. The ministry is cracking down on dark creatures whether they sided with Voldemort or not. I'd want to get away to someplace relatively unbiased to raise my growing family too, wouldn't you?

**Wouldn't Harry have some of the other Cullen kids in his class?**

Now this question I've heard twice. It's a good question. But think of it this way. Take you and four other friends. Are you picturing you and your friends? You are? Good. Now picture 353 more kids, put them in the same area as you are with your friends. Are you picturing this? It's hard but just think of a mass of people. Good. That is how many people there are approximately in Forks High school. Are you seeing the massive number of kids? Now think of it this way, students have different courses (in the same subject) than each other (For example, Math has trigonometry, geometry, algebra and calculus.), and there are respectively different teachers that teach those various courses (one would teach trig and algebra while another would teach algebra and geometry).

So if you take all these little subjects; like English, math and Biology. You know the basics. Now try to cram all of these kids in with one teacher per subject, not only would that be more like a college course, but it would be extremely unrealistic to insist that Harry is the only English teacher in the school (Mr. Mason is mentioned in the first chapter, and remains in the reality of my story, though largely ignored at this point). The class room maximum has to be around twenty students. And because there are normally only eight classes a day, including lunch, there had to be at least three to four English teachers in the building. Alice and Jasper most likely share all of their classes for Jasper's sake if anything. So that leaves the other two Cullens, and I doubt that they would pop up in Harry's classes, what with all the other subject matter on his roster. He seems to teach poetry and romance, classic novels. Rosalie and Emmet seem the types to like things like cars, and sports. I doubt they would take a class based on poetry.

**Review**!!!! Yay! It has come to my attention that I hold a certain power to demand definitions and descriptions of specific nouns out of you. Since I live on a bike, I want to know all about the joyous wonders of Pizza! What does it taste like? Smell like? What does it look like (on a plate or smooshed against someones face I'm not choosy...)?


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I own no one from Harry Potter or Twilight. I wish I did, but I don't. I don't even own the computer I'm typing on.

**Note:** Holy crap, chapter three. Yeah. Hard to believe it's here isn't it? Sorry It took me so long, I was having a bit of writers block for a couple of days, then I caught the flu (this is going to sound horrible but I managed to write as Edward while I was sick and attributed that fact to feeling almost dead anyways.) Then I absconded to Italy for about a week. That word is fun, abscond… Anyhow since I obviously don't own a house I also don't own a laptop, and all Internet service at the hotels we stayed at would cost money. And I'm cheap. So that was a stall in it's production. Sorry bout that guys.

Again I would like to thank every person who reviewed, and put my story on their favorites list. It is an honor. A few people inquired upon my bike living dynamics. It is quite simple. I live on a regular old mountain bike. There are perks to living here (no mortgage, don't have to shampoo carpets and the like.) though the downside is that I have to ride over to my friend's house and utilize her shower…

* * *

Defy the Stars

Chapter 3

They had a problem, an issue, a hitch in their plans. Problems were normally something he could deal with. They were easily shooed from his agenda with a sweep of his own regal hand. Though that was few and far in between, he didn't _do_ problems. Though this particular problem they should have seen coming (It was inevitable), should have taken steps to assure that it wouldn't come about. But it had, because they didn't.

Draco just barely flinched as a hand slammed down on the table in front of him. Reminding himself sternly to keep his composure, Malfoys never lost their cool over a small problem, a mere snag really. His grey eyes traveled up the arm to a furious rounded face framed by the traditional Weasley red hair. Though Molly Weasley could hardly be considered a snag. "-And you didn't think to tell us?" Her angry tone had his eyes just watering to look away from the woman's face. "I'm his mother for Merlin's sake!"

His eyes found their way to Harry. His dusty clothes, bad posture and ruffled hair paled in comparison to Draco's own immaculate appearance. His body was bent forward in his rickety wooden chair, his face sullen; looking thoroughly chastised. But Draco knew the signs, loathed as he was to admit it.

Harry's glazed eyes were trained on one spot on the well-worn table, sitting in the center of the crammed Burrow's kitchen. Harry may have looked like he was paying attention to Molly Weasley's tirade. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" His grey eyes grudgingly made their way up to Molly's face. The truth was Harry was meditating, he had withdrawn into his own mind; a habit that he had fallen into when times became unnecessarily stressful. It was a habit he developed shortly after mastering occlumency. Something, the only thing, that Draco envied about the brunette.

"What were you thinking?" Molly wailed, seemingly having worked herself out of the rage she had kicked up. Though one word out of Draco and it would be back with a vengeance, a fact of which he was reminded of when his hand received a sharp squeeze from Ginny. His jaw locked again, the retort dying on his lips. He gazed over at his beautiful wife. _The best_, that's what Malfoys wanted, and what Draco got.

Even though he and Ginny had married a couple of years ago, and conceived a child, Molly still didn't trust him. He held back a sneer as the older woman collapsed into a pitiably mismatched chair, making it creak. The sudden wail from the piece of furniture snapped Harry out of his trance. Ginny rose slightly from her seat to his left, her movements were hesitant. Her unseeing eyes shifted about merely out of habit. She seemed to make up her mind and stood from her chair, feeling her way around the table to where her mother sat. "He…he could have…could be-" The older red head sobbed unintelligibly as her daughter placed a gloved hand on her shoulder.

"But he's not." Ginny reassured her mother, embracing the older woman.

"It'll be alright, Mrs. Weasley." Harry inserted in a tired voice from his own seat. He stood slowly, "We'll get him back." He assured, a hard look falling onto his face.

Draco sneered then, feeling quite ill at the sight of all of them, bloody Gryffindors.

Green eyes, unfocused and underlined with heavy bags, scanned over the same sentence twice. Harry hadn't slept a wink since Ron had officially gone missing three days ago. They had tracked Mcnair's progress to Florida, where they promptly lost the trail. The second team, comprised solely of the Weasleys at the moment, were currently scouring the state, determined to locate a trace of some sort, anything to lead them to their missing family member.

His eyes roved tiredly down the next page, glancing over the moving picture of a vampire. He did an instant double take, the man reminded him strongly of Edward. The intense eyes, the pale skin, the inhuman grace... but it wasn't just Edward that looked like this, it was his whole family. Coven, he corrected himself after a short moment before he scowled at his own conclusion. He had jumped to that, he didn't know for sure. He hadn't even seen that much of Edward's family to begin with. Hell, he may have just as well leapt upon the decision and beaten it with a stick.

Harry rolled his eyes up at himself and dropped his head onto the book with a thump. His nose was pressed up against the pages and his eyes were focused on the couple of words in front of them. _Ice cold…God damn it_. But everything pointed to it! The boy's skin _was_ abnormally cold when Harry had shaken hands with him. He limply raised his head to lean back in the stiff chair he had managed to snag in the Malfoy family library. Pouting at the ceiling, Harry's head drooped over the back of the chair. "Drop it. It's none of my business." Harry relentlessly berated himself quietly, only stopping to raise his head and flip the book shut to see the author's name, Henry McGregor. He flipped it back open with a disdainful sniff.

He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the idea, hand pushing his bangs back over his scar. But it lingered in his mind, lurking like one of Luna's wrackspurts. He pushed his thoughts back to Ron, and dutifully leaned over the book, looking for anything less than a werewolf that could help them defeat vampires. He refused to ask Remus to pull himself away from his wife, or ask any favors on his behalf. He returned to his book, skimming lightly through the pages until he reached a promising paragraph.

Tearing them apart and burning them worked, "But would just burning them do anything?" he inquired out loud, staring intently at the book as if he expected the answer to be revealed if he looked closely at the aged pages.

"You could try fiendfyre," Neville piped up from his left. Harry jumped at the sudden appearance of his friend. He turned to look tiredly at the taller, bulkier brunette.

"We could," Harry furrowed his brow and trailed off uncertainly. He repressed the urge to ask how long the other man had been standing there, knowing it was just long enough to incriminate his sanity.

Neville smiled and set his own set of books down; Harry thought he spied something herbology related amongst the titles. "But it is incredibly difficult." Neville continued in an understanding tone.

Running a hand through his unruly head of hair, Harry sighed and looked dejectedly down at the picture of the vampire. Again reminding Harry sharply of Edward, he pushed the boy from his mind once again. "It is." He agreed tentatively. Flipping the book closed, inwardly blaming it for all of his problems. He stared at the italic letters imbedded smugly in the front cover. The rather-large-for-sub-text-text spelling out a hateful name, McGregor. "What else is there? Incendio is too weak to properly affect vampires." He whined not breaking eye contact with the book's cover. _Can you tell us that, McGregor?_ Harry thought at the book spitefully. A small glare worked its way onto his face.

Neville watched Harry scowl down at the book cover, passing it off as another of Harry's odd habits that appeared often enough when he was tired. "Maybe we could ask a Naturalist then?" He spoke slowly, almost carefully about them, his eyes watching Harry's reaction to the word.

Harry's green eyes strayed up to look at Neville, the spiteful expression dropping off of his face. He had heard of Naturalism before. They were a group of witches or wizards who believed that they could be one with their natural element. They believed that they could wield them as an extension of their own person, to better the world around them. They also held life in the highest esteem.

"Draco has a contact in one of the Norwegian colonies, I think." Neville continued, pulling a chair over from a surrounding table and settling into it as he spoke. He gazed at the ceiling thoughtfully.

Harry shifted in his chair, plucking at his earring in thought. They also believed that to use their powers for personal gain was to depreciate themselves and the element they harbored within themselves. He narrowed his eyes at his lap. The Naturalists honed their magic to be a conduit for a single element and could roughly control the direction of which they released that element. Harry wracked his brain for further information, but couldn't seem to remember anything further.

"I'm, not quite sure what element he-" Neville trailed off searching for the words. Control was implying too much power over the magic they dabbled in.

"Harbors?" Harry supplied in slight amusement.

Neville beamed at him. "Yes." He nodded enthusiastically. "I'm sure he knows someone who harbors," he glanced at Harry gratefully for the word, "Fire."

Harry hummed, a doubtful look crossing his face. "That might work, if we found a fire naturalist powerful enough…though they might not agree with destroying the existence of another being no matter how…" He stopped there, twisting his right wrist around, at a loss for words, his face crinkled as if he had swallowed a lemon. He was debating between gross and deformed, not really thinking either appropriate.

"Dead?" Neville snorted, leaning forward in his chair, a broad smile stretching across his face as Harry snapped his fingers and nodded enthusiastically.

"Well," Harry grinned evilly at the book sitting on the edge of the table. "That concludes my study session. Thanks for the help, Nev." He turned a genuine smile at his friend who smiled back at him in return.

"Anytime mate," a minor pause and Neville shifted in his seat. "And Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Do me a favor and get some sleep." Neville all but ordered, not making it sound like a favor at all. Harry glared at the Mediwizard in training, who glared back just as fiercely.

"I'll try." He replied, stiffly unable to find a reason to sleep when he could be helping to find Ron.

"That's all we ask." Neville sighed wearily, dropping his glare as he rose from his own chair.

* * *

The roll, at the mercy of slender fingers, fell in little pieces onto the lunch tray. Topaz eyes burned into the abused hunk of bread. It had been five days since Edward had last seen Harry. Not that he had garnered many relevant answers out of that particular encounter. Edward glowered darkly at the half demolished roll.

The teacher had mysteriously disappeared that Friday, surrounding pedestrians had seen him enter an alleyway. He had rushed down it hoping to find the man, only to discover a dead end. It was almost as if Harry had been airlifted or teleported away, one of the many mysteries surrounding the British man.

Everything about Harry intrigued and frustrated him, drew him in and pushed him back at the same time. Edward knew that he shouldn't even be trying to get closer to the man; his scent alone drove him to the breaking point. He had nearly attacked him on his first day in class; his scent was so appetizing, so appealing. Gods, everything he did seemed to appeal to Edward. From the way he fiddled with his earring when he was nervous, to the faces he made when he was thinking. He was as readable as a book, yet so hard to understand, to grasp. His mind was shut tight, surrounded by some sort of wall.

Staring at the pile of crumbs on his lunch tray, Edward hissed softly at his own thoughts. The sound made Rosalie raise an eyebrow in his direction and Emmet to smirk at him. Jasper spared him a bemused expression; Alice's smile flickered widely before it was gone again. She delved back into focusing, trying to grasp the future of Harry Potter. That was another thing that Edward found frustrating, Alice could only get flickers and hazy visuals of the other man's more mundane future. A fact that annoyed the smaller girl as well.

He had already tried running from his attraction, his hunger. Needless to say he had been drawn back in. Like a drug, Harry was like his own personal drug. He let a smile slip onto his face.

_Oh. Someone's obsessing again._ Edward scowled at Emmet. The bulkier boy averted his eyes to the ceiling, his expression an attempt at innocence. _Well you are._ His lips were twitching upwards, and his eyes flickered back to Edward's own, chin still raised. Edward blocked out Emmet's thoughts and skillfully ignored Rosalie's louder, negative ones.

Letting loose an explosive huff, Edward stood gracefully, tray in hand, and dumped his food into the nearest trash barrel. He knew Emmet was right, he was being slightly obsessive. He was a danger, a monster, he would lose control, it was inevitable. He shouldn't be getting too close; he shouldn't want to know him. _And yet,_ the hazy image of Harry brushing his teeth flashed through Alice's mind. _I find myself doing just that._

_

* * *

  
_

The dagger's silver surface reminded Harry of a liquid as he slowly rolled it, the tip of the weapon digging a small hole in the polished tabletop. His calloused fingers walked around the black leather covered hilt in an almost spider-like fashion. He paused briefly in his actions when the light caught the blade just so; making the carved runes stand out starkly in comparison to the fluid-like silver they were engraved in.

It had been five days since Ron had been declared in mortal peril by the Weasley family clock. Harry began spinning the knife in the opposite direction a bit faster. They had tracked Mcnair and his newly acquired vampire coven to Florida; from there they made their way up the Atlantic coastline through New England and into Canada. His emerald eyes were still trained unblinkingly on the dagger. The bags under his eyes more pronounced than ever.

He had tracked them to Canada at least before Malfoy and Longbottom had double teamed him and locked him in a room at the Malfoy manor located on the Isle of Man. They had claimed it had been for his own good, demanded he sleep without the aid of potions and relax while they handled the rest. They'd come get him when they found something.

They believed it was a gesture of true friendship, Harry disagreed. He was fine. He would be fine. As soon as he found Ron.

"Good lord, Potter!" Malfoy's astounded voice broke the melancholy silence that had surrounded Harry. His wide grey eyes roved the room over the broken picture frames, chairs, vases. His mouth had opened slightly as he finally forced himself to look at Harry. "When…How-Potter?" Draco sputtered meaninglessly as he gestured to the mess the smaller man had made of the room. He visually pulled himself together, jaw setting in a stubborn manner. "Five hours. You did this in five hours of being shut in here?"

"The first ten minutes actually." Harry intoned, sitting back in the chair, drawing Draco's attention to the hole he had all but carved into the table as he removed the knife. The smaller brunette, having settled his anger earlier by taking it out on his surroundings, now felt slightly vindictive towards his well-meaning captor.

"That was mahogany!" He sputtered, poise lost again to Harry's disastrous anti-furniture antics, forgetting for an instant that all of the damage could easily be repaired with a simple flick of his wand. Draco hardly lost his cool. However, when Harry put effort into it, he could easily get under the Malfoy heir's mask and pry it loose.

"And still is." Harry nodded at him looking out over the rest of the table where he had carved rough a map of America into it, marking it strategically.

"Potter!" Draco snarled warningly.

"Malfoy." Harry droned, a malicious smile playing at his lips.

"Neville," Both men turned their eyes upon the man leaning in the doorway, his eyebrow raised and the beginning of his sentence lingering in the air. "Sent me to get you two." Charlie's red hair was the same as always and a burn mark ran the length of his muscled arm. His short, stocky frame was a few inches taller than Harry's own more delicate one. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out Harry's wand.

Catching it when it was tossed to him, Harry smiled sheepishly at the elder Weasley and stood from his chair. "Thanks. Good to see you mate." He wiggled his wand in between his index finger and thumb, and brushed by Malfoy. Charlie nodded at him a smile stretching to crinkle the corners of his eyes, before he turned nonchalantly back into the hallway.

The sound of his heavy boots hitting tiles seemed to reinvigorate Draco, who whirled upon the slight brunette, an insult on his lips. He was however greeted by the back of the Boy-who-lived and a wand tip pointed over his shoulder. With a swift flick the room around Draco reverted to its original pristine condition, and the heel of Harry's boot disappeared around the corner.

"This isn't over, Potter!" Malfoy snarled, feeling slighted by the ease at which their ritualistic argument had been dismissed. He stalked out of the room and easily caught up with the shorter man. "Just because you fixed it doesn't make it all _hunky dory_." The last words were dripping with sarcasm and malice. Harry raised an unconcerned brow at him, mouth twitching in his amusement.

"Yes it does." Harry stated sounding mildly scandalized. "I broke it and then I fixed it." He gestured a little with his hands a dreamy look that resembled Luna's own settled onto his face. "Hunky dory," he concluded with a wispy tone in his voice.

Draco glowered at the other man. "It's not just that. It's the principle of the thing." His voice had a strained quality to it and Harry shrugged out of his odd mood swing to look at Draco in a slightly apologetic way.

"Well then, as a matter of principle, I owe you one."

* * *

Tonks was contemplating living out the rest of her pregnancy in the bathroom. She practically ran up the stairs, painfully aware of her screaming bladder, and all but threw herself down onto the toilet with a sigh. The baby had begun to put pressure on her bladder, and made it almost impossible to hold it for long periods of time.

She frowned and blinked at the giant pile of laundry sitting in an intimidating sort of tower across from her. Since Harry had left to search for Ron, the house had declined into a vicious state of disorder. Not that Tonks didn't mind some proper mess, and lack of organization, but it was beginning to disgust her. Remus had managed to figure out the dishwasher earlier that week, when the mound of dishes became over bearing to look at. The problem was that, while they had lived at least a year and a half in the muggle world without Harry in their lives before, they had sparsely used magic to do small things, like the laundry. But soon after Harry made his departure, Tonks had felt as if she were being watched. Call it auror intuition; she just didn't feel it was safe to use magic in the house.

Pulling her elastically inclined pajama pants back up, she washed her hands quickly before turning back to the pile of clothes with a determined look on her face. They hadn't attempted to figure out the washer and dryer in the basement, until today. It was Tonks' day off, and Remus would be at work until four. She had to face this alone and without magic.

Her shoulders lost their determined look and drooped a little at the prospect of lugging the whole monstrous mountain downstairs. She shook it off and, ignoring the almost continuous I'm-being-watched-feeling as best as she could, scooped up an armful of clothes.

If Remus were home he would have laughed, seeing her tentatively making her way down the stairs, eyes peeking warily around an arm load of laundry. She stepped off of the last step and felt around with her toes, making sure she wouldn't tumble down a stair by accident. She let out a sigh, and turned to make her way haltingly down to the five-yard by ten-yard basement.

Her thoughts were drawn back to Remus. He had been on edge lately, though he had assured her that it had nothing to do with the full moon being the night before. He was extra edgy, almost anal to a point, over protective. He would want her to call when she was going out, and coming back. Tonks knew it had something to do with the feelings she had been getting and suspected it was connected to the vampires he smelled on Harry after he came home from school. They were often a source of hostility in Remus, even though he tried to keep his opinion of them neutral, he couldn't help but be disgusted by them. He was a werewolf after all, and werewolves and vampires do not get on well at all. He had told her not to mention them around Harry. Tonks didn't dig too much farther into the matter.

She dumped the load of clothing into the machine to the left, remembering that Harry always used that one first. Pulling the giant orange bottle of Tide towards her, she could only find it in herself to blink at it as she attempted to figure out the mechanics of it. A small nozzle protruded from one end and she flipped the container so the nozzle was at the bottom. Now what? She shifted uncomfortably and picked up a small clear cup with various lines and numbers on the inside. She leaned down so she was eye level with it and scowled. "Maybe I should call Harry." She thought aloud to herself. Standing straight again she shook her head at her own idea, he had more than enough to deal with without her muddling in with a mundane problem.

About two minutes later the machine was making odd noises and spitting up fine foam all over the floor. Tonks stood at the base of the stairs, clutching the phone to her ear. Eyes trained on the washing machine warily, still debating whether or not to call Harry. She knew that magic and muggle didn't mix very well, having encountered a similar problem about half a year before with the dishwasher. As the foam crept towards the base of the stairs, growing in height as well, she quickly made up her mind. She fished about in her pajama bottom's pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. She quickly dialed the number into the phone and pressed talk.

The machine squealed and hissed as a new wave of foam emitted from the top of it. The phone rang twice then a click and an exasperated hello sounded at the other end.

"Harry?"

"Tonks is that you?" Harry's voice sounded different over the phone, different and surprised. Tonks didn't really blame him, seeing as they hadn't spoken for a number of days. She made an affirmative sound as the machine belched up another round of foam, this batch seemed colored. The foam had reached the stairs and was now overlapping itself.

"Is something-" Harry was cut off by a yell from the background that sounded suspiciously like one of the twins greeting her. Harry let out an exasperated breath. "Is everything alright?" He inquired, sounding tired and worried all in one. Tonks wondered briefly if the man had been getting any sleep.

"Not really." Tonks eyed the machine in front of her with a sort of resentment she reserved for the battlefield.

You could almost hear Harry snap to attention on the other end of the phone. "What?" He breathed out, the panicked sound in his voice made Tonks wince, she should have elaborated. "What happened? No one's hurt, right?"

Tonks' pulled a face at Harry, even though he couldn't see it. "You worry too much. It's nothing as serious as all that." She chastised him lightly and the machine clanked loudly from under its foamy veil.

"What was that?" Harry inquired sounding wary again. The basement, in Tonk's humble opinion, was far too small. The foam had covered the ground in less than ten minutes.

"The washing machine." Tonks huffed, aggravated.

His voice took on a resigned tone, "You tried to do the laundry." He concluded to himself more than anyone else.

"It's the thought that counts, right?" Tonks backed up to the second stair, just in case. She could almost see Harry pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "I didn't interrupt anything important, did I?" Tonks added as an after thought, feeling slightly guilty at using up so much of her friends time.

"No…well, yes…but nothing I can't hear about later." Harry waved off the resigned tone creeping back into his voice. "Now, Tonks I need you to tell me what the washing machine is doing exactly."

Swallowing thickly, she glanced at the shuddering machine, the lid lifting above its foamy exterior to let loose a small wave of foam. "It's spitting up foam." She stated, drawing out the end of her sentence in a questioning manner. "Making angry noises, and shaking." She concluded tapping her finger against the backside of the cordless phone.

"How much foam is there?" Harry's voice held a certain amount of dread.

"Um." Tonks looked out over the basement. Most of the bubbles had popped leaving soapy water pooling across the cement floor; though a thin layer of the foam still floated on top of it. "There was a lot. Now there's about a quarter of an inch of water on the floor."

Harry breathed deeply, sounding to Tonks like static on the police car's radios. "First thing you need to do, Tonks, is to turn off the washing machine." He sounded like he was speaking through his hand, much like Remus did when he was extremely aggravated.

Nodding, Tonks hummed in agreement, sounding sheepish even to herself. "Then what about the water?" her inquiry surprised Harry.

"I…don't know." Harry stated slowly, sounding slightly put out by this particular revelation; then he muttered something to himself, most of which Tonks did not hear. What she did hear made no sense, "Bloody McGregor." She chose to ignore it, well aware of Harry's oddities by this point.

Humming in thought again, Tonks made to roll up her pant leg, pinning the phone to her shoulder with the side of her face. "Remus might know then." Harry made an affirmative noise. "Well, sorry to bother you about something like this, Harry." Tonks apologized.

"Oh! Oh no! No trouble at all!" Harry assured her, a smile in his voice.

"You're sure?" Tonks inquired.

"Positive. They just found where they're holding Ron, somewhere in Antarctica. They were just talking about the infallible defenses the place has." Harry explained as if he had been present for the whole meeting that Tonks call had dragged him out of. "Your call came as we were adjourning for a sort of research party." Harry reassured her once more. Tonks rolled up her second pant leg and bravely stepped into the thin layer of water.

Sloshing towards the machine that was still spitting small amounts of foam and making disagreeable noises, she let out an understanding "Oh," before reaching out and turning the dial into the off position causing the terroristic machine to cease it's grumbling at once. "Well, I suppose I'll let you go then." Tonks said, not wanting to hold up Harry's researching any longer.

"Alright, don't forget to call Remus about the basement." Harry reminded gently as they said their goodbyes and Tonks hung up the phone.

"Alright, let's get rid of you." She glared down at the water surrounding her feet, and jabbed the numbers she knew to be Remus' work number.

* * *

His eyelids were heavy; he struggled to keep them open. Glazed blue eyes focused on the white puffs of breath that flowed out of his mouth with every labored heave of his chest. He wasn't going to deny it, it was cold. His eyes drooped shut before a sharp jolt to his wrists made them fly open again. Ceasing momentarily in its violent shivering for a moment, his body started up again in even stronger tremors than before. Wiggling his numb fingers again, he grunted, reconsidering his statement about the temperature as an understatement. It was freezing, and the nearly open stone cell he was in certainly didn't help things. Shifting so that he was kneeling, he found it hard to maneuver his toes as well. His hands had been cuffed to the wall behind him and the manacles had been magically reinforced as well as spelled to keep him from falling asleep. Mcnair's doing, "Damn decent of the bloody wanker." His gruff voice quivered with him as he leaned forward so that the chains were holding him up, peering out to the left of his cell.

There, leaning against the wall, was a decaying young man dressed in tatters. Gaping mouth twisted in a slightly disturbing way, and dried up eyes sitting in the sockets. Its knees were distorted awkwardly, and its back was hunched over in a classical muggle zombie movie position. "Still there…" A lock of grimy red hair fell forward into his face as he let himself fall back heavily onto the wall, ignoring his numb fingers and toes the best he could. Mcnair had guards similar to this one everywhere just in case he did manage to get out.

Ron didn't quite fancy himself being bitten by one. The bite of a zombie slowly killed the victim, affecting the brain first until all functions were lost and the heart finally stopped. Consequently, this was where the muggle end got a bit hazy on the details, Ron found that they believed zombies rose on their own; when really it was the necromancer that raised the newly dead to strengthen his own army's numbers.

Ron twisted and pulled at the manacles around his wrists, testing their strength. He knew his daily rituals would produce no better results than the first time he tried. However, it didn't stop him from making an attempt.

Grunting, Ron pulled at his left wrist a bit harder than usual, not having felt as much pain or resistance as before. To his surprise, his left hand slipped a bit roughly out of the manacle. He inhaled sharply through his nose, and with a pained moan, moved his cramped arm around to have a look at his newly freed hand. He let his breath back out in a sharp hiss at the blackened and bleeding appendage. Though the blood was very sparse it was still there, as was the evidence of frostbite. He let his aching limb drop onto the dirty, snow-covered cell ground with a whispered cuss.

He sat there watching his own blood clot, finding the process oddly fascinating. His eyelids began to droop again as his head slowly bobbed its way forward onto his chest. This time he didn't bother attempting to stop himself as he drifted off. He was awoken again with a harsh zap to his right wrist and he jumped up with a curse, letting his weight pull his right hand harshly out of the manacle as he did so. He stayed as he landed, face down on the frozen stone floor, his breathing harsh and eyes closed. He slowly lifted himself up, and let himself rest against the wall, mind working furiously. Eyes still drooped with exhaustion.

A light clapping from the right of the cell made Ron's eyes widen and he reflexively pushed himself further against the wall. His face moved its way into a scowl of defiance as he shifted himself to look at the woman.

"He's loose." She stated in a sultry tone, eyes fixed on his face. "Would you really risk trying something so foolish?" She inquired; Ron presumed she spoke of him attempting to escape. Her bare feet were covered in snow, red hair littered with little white flakes that wouldn't ever melt from body heat. She stepped sideways in an almost seductive way towards his flimsy cell door. It squeaked when she opened it. His breathing increased, as she drew closer to him. "You won't make it." She stated in a breezy sigh, taking several more swaying steps towards him. Her dark eyes slowly looked him up and down. "Best not to try." She gave a whispery laugh that sounded quite practiced to Ron.

"Why do you care?" He inquired of her a bit more gruffly than he had intended. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, moving his attention to a point over her shoulder. The female vampire stopped all movement before taking the remaining steps towards his person.

"I would _hate_ for you to meet an," she paused glancing at his neck in a suggestive manner, "_untimely_ end." Her voice was breathless, black eyes trained on him as her fangs glinted in the dimming sunlight. She hadn't fed for quite some time, and obviously didn't feel like draining a polar bear or a penguin instead. He paled when she gripped his forearm, inhaling deeply by his neck. She groaned into his ear, tightening her grip when he attempted to move away. His neck prickled as her lips descended slowly towards it.

Seconds seemed to slow down into minutes until time caught up with an audible snap. Ron screamed in pain, squirming as if to get away from the extremity that caused him discomfort. "Bloody hell!" He ground out through his teeth, tears leaking out the side of his eyes. "Couldn't you have snapped her arm in two?" His voice was borderline hysterical. Spit flew from his lips as he turned his eyes onto the vampire responsible for hefting him all across the country. He stood tall in front of the crouched form of Victoria. Ron could only assume he had torn her away from him. His long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, he wore only an over coat and a pair of pants.

"You are not to touch the human. Not yet. Not while he is still of some use." The man's voice was firm, hard and unforgiving. Ron let out another pained noise as he tried to maneuver himself into a more comfortable position. The taller, bulkier male all but dragged the famished woman out of his cell. The door slammed shut with metal deforming force, and they were gone as quickly as they had come.

He huffed out a shaky, puffy white sigh and blinked rapidly, trying to stay awake. Harry had noticed he was gone by this point and was no doubt searching for him. He let himself slump lower against the wall, body still shaking from the below freezing temperatures as he cradled his broken arm in between his legs and torso.

He had to be looking for him; it was the only hope he had left.

* * *

Harry's usual study area had been invaded quite thoroughly, in his humble opinion. His friends had spread themselves out, Bill procuring Harry's usual table. Harry had managed to snag his favorite chair; though, he had been forced to evict once the twins descended upon him like a vortex of emotional discomfort.

Bill stared out over the library's occupants solemnly, "The wards are poorly constructed, but still effective." He stated quietly, a hint of frustration clear in his dark eyes.

"So it's not going to be an easy get in, kill the bad guys and get out kind of job." Neville interjected in a slightly dejected tone, his hand squeezed Luna's right knee as she stroked his spine with a long, orange painted nail. Neville, being a Medi-wizard in training, did not find himself to be fond of prolonged fighting. He had already worked with broken soldiers from the war. The forgotten aftermath, the uncelebrated heroes.

Shaking his head in the negative, Bill shifted his attention to the bulkier man. "Unfortunately." Bill leant heavily on the table he stood in front of. "Set the wards off and they fall. The wards fall and Mcnair will know we're there."

Fred and George scowled and summed the end results up in a collective whisper, "And raise his undead army." George seemed to sit a little higher into the chair he had snagged from Harry and Fred let his forehead fall on top of his brother's head at the thought of zombies.

"With all of the room he's got in those wards of his, the army is most likely massive." Draco intoned, his face held an expression of mild disgust.

Leaning forward, Harry hissed out a breath through his clenched teeth, though a bit louder than was necessary. "I sense a 'but' somewhere in there Bill." He shifted slightly on the hard tiled library floor, glaring at the Weasley twins half-heartedly.

"Not a but per say…" Bill sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose. "But there is a problem."

"That was technically a but Bill." Charlie pointed out before he withdrew from the conversation once again.

Bill sent his brother a look. "Magic that hasn't been keyed into the wards sets them off." He sent a look out over the cluster of familiar faces.

"All types of magic?" Luna inquired airily, her eyes peering uncannily into Bill's own.

Bill shifted a bit and looked at her, still uncomfortable around the distant woman. "Yes, even portkeys, apparation, and brooms…." He trailed off as the problem became apparent to the rest of the room, waiting for someone to state what they already knew. After a couple of minutes of heavy silence Bill gave up. "It would take days to travel from the ward limits to his stronghold." Ginny heaved a heavy sigh at his words.

"We don't have time for that." The blind woman all but hissed. Her red hair falling over her shoulders as she stood, unfolding her guiding cane as she went.

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Neville inquired, looking quite frustrated.

Luna paused in stroking Neville's back, her eyes found their way to Bill's again. "Is there anything the wards could have missed?" She paused as Bill shrugged and shook his head, "Magical creatures," A negative looking stare was directed at the mysterious blonde, "Muggle vehicles?" Here Bill had to pause.

Bill's face shifted from frustration to realization. "That actually might work." Luna smiled knowingly and leaned back in her seat, continuing to stroke Neville's spine with her right index finger.

"Now we need a decent battle plan." Draco stated. "Preferably something that will surround him."

"And not involve you in the muggle bit." Fred grinned at the pure blooded man standing a few feet away.

Draco lifted his head up proudly and sniffed indignantly at the twins. "Malfoy's do not lower themselves to such levels." His lips lifted at a corner.

* * *

The pack of snowmobiles revved their way over the more or less flat-if-not-at-a-slight-upward-angle frozen wasteland in front of them. Slight hills and outcroppings could be seen almost continuously in the distance. Harry grimaced down at his wrists through the dark visor of his helmet for a moment, missing the weight of his gauntlets. The twins had made them for him a year and a half ago, as a Christmas present when they learned that he was rubbish at tracking. They had imprinted runes into them to notify him when dark magic had been used heavily in an area. The runes had also allowed him to extend some extremely basic accidental magic through them, nothing as advanced as a spell. The magic released was more of a push or pull sort of deal, weak but effective when necessary. Because of their magical properties he had been forced to take them off for the time being, otherwise they would have gone off as soon as he had entered the wards.

They had come up with a suitable plan. One team would wait back at the manor, the other two would approach Mcnair's base from opposite sides. One would scale the cliff; the other would approach from the arctic tundra. As soon as the two teams infiltrated the base, the third team would be free to apparate into the building and assist in apprehending Mcnair.

Harry stared at the back of Neville's helmet as he made a crackling comment into the communication link. "The wards are just ahead. We should reach the midway point in about thirty minutes if we keep the speed at sixty miles an hour, over." Bill revved his engine in reply and sped up a bit more to come level with Harry on his own snowmobile.

The channel fizzled once more, "You boys _just_ got to the wards? Over." One of the twin's voiced over impatience lacing the tone clearly though the slim film of static.

"We got to the cliff twenty minutes ago. Over." The other twin piped up a grunt at the end as he most likely hefted himself up another foothold in the steep cliff that Mcnair's hideout overlooked.

"Oho." Harry smirked into the small microphone inside of his helmet, eyes narrowing at the unspoken challenge the twins had provided them with. "How far up the cliff are you blokes? Over." He inquired, a doubtful tone in his voice; the cliff had been estimated at least a couple hundred foot climb.

"About a quarter of the way there, Potter. Over." The second smug twin's voice answered him with a smile in his voice as a clank from their climbing gear echoed into Harry's earpiece.

"I seriously doubt that Fred. Over." Bill scolded lightly, feeling the rise in spirits as they closed in on their brother's captor.

"I'd like to remind you," The sixth voice drawled out then paused for a second to search for a word, "gentlemen." Draco stopped presumably to roll his eyes from where he sat with Luna and Ginny in Malfoy manor. "That this channel isn't for idle chat. Over." The last word was nearly growled out by the Malfoy heir.

"Oh pish posh Malfoy, old bean!" Fred laughed in a false tone before his connection fizzled out, the man not bothering to say the customary 'over'.

"A load of codswallup, my good man!" Came the slightly deeper tones of the second twin, his voice as drawn out and drawling as his twins. Harry swore he could hear the smile in their voices.

Neville ducked his head, most likely snorting at the twin's antics, before he straightened out again.

Ginny's crackling chuckle made it's way to Harry's ears next. "By the way, guys," She interjected into the conversation; Harry smiled at her voice and looked quickly up at the full moon hanging overhead in the clear sky. "Draco forgot," She paused when a droning background noise, that sounded vaguely like Malfoy, interrupted her. She snorted, "Okay, sorry, _neglected_ to inform you that Blaise Zabini, that naturalist Neville was asking after, will meet you at the half way point. Over."

"Bit late to be including the other kids in the game isn't it? Over." Bill inquired swerving his vehicle between Neville's and Harry's.

"Well, naturalists don't exactly have conventional mean of communication, Bill." Ginny chastised back, "It took longer for the owl to find them and get back to us." She paused after her explanation, "They said they'd act as a mediator between you and the vampires. Over."

"Wait, you said they, plural. Last I checked, Blaise Zabini was only one person. Over." Fred's voice interjected.

"He said he might be bringing a friend along with him. Over." Ginny clarified to the man as his snowmobile fell back level with Harry's.

"A friend? What is this, a dinner party? Over." George's voices grunted as they hauled up on the cliff face.

"Might as well turn into one if all we're doing is mediating. Over." Charlie's voice cut through evenly.

"Mediate?" Neville inquired. "Then how are we going to take care of the Vampires?"

* * *

Ron glared at the twisted cell door before he raised his booted foot to kick it. The action jarred his broken arm and he hissed in pain, rocking backwards as if the motion would soothe his agony. "Bloody Christ."

Slight movement out of the corner of his eye made Ron halt all unnecessary movement, his blue eyes slowly drifted to his dead puppet guard. He cautiously peered at the grotesque being from under his unkempt fringe, inhaling deeply as its leg twitched forwards. Its right eye rolled out of its socket and dangled in front of the agape mouth. Moments passed before the zombie closed its mouth with an icy sounding crack, flakes of flesh fluttering to the ground as it stood. Its shriveled eyes swiveled to stare directly at Ron's hunched over form not inches in front of the damaged cell door. The action was made two times more gruesome when the right eyeball had to swivel in an entirely different direction to accomplish this.

The zombie tilted its head, eyeball swinging slightly, as it assessed the situation at hand. Ron backed away from the door slowly, praying that the zombie would just become catatonic again. Righting its head to a semi-upright position, the undead creature paused for another moment before its jaw opened and a deafening high pitched screech emitted from it.

"Damn!" Ron covered his ear with his good hand instinctively, the appendage still blackened at the fingertips. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to drop it to his side and twisted himself so his left side was facing the door, broken arm shielded from the heavy metallic force that blocked him from freedom. He backed away, giving himself ample distance between himself and the door. His blue eyes glanced up quickly at the still wailing zombie. He inhaled deeply and let it out in a desperate war cry as he launched himself at the door. Straining against the bolts of pain that shot down his right arm, Ron rammed himself into the door again. It moved slightly and Ron's resolve hardened, he had to get out now. Harry or no Harry, Ron could not afford to wait for him any longer.

* * *

Harry turned sharply at the sound of movement behind him, his feet kicking up snow and ashes of previously burned undead. His wand arm moved upwards, an incendio on his lips. The zombie let out a sharp scream; jaw dropping lower than it should have been possible. Black spittle flew from its open mouth and into Harry's face. The brunette drew backwards slightly, eyes half lidded and eyebrows raised in a disbelieving sort of disgust. His wand was still poised in mid swish. His arm seemed to lower itself by itself, and he used his own sleeve to wipe away the thick opaque substance. "Alright. That was gross." He murmured to himself frowning heavily at the undead being that was exhaling heavily in his face.

The shorter human gagged at the heavy stench of death that flowed from its-Harry took a second glance at the creature with a skeptical eye- _her_ mouth. He made a sharp noise of disgust. With a sharp flick of his wand, a red beam of light cut through the zombie's midsection. The zombie crumpled to the ground still making screeching noises in protest to Harry's sudden apparation.

Everything had been going smoothly; they had just reached the halfway point when the ground had started to shift slightly. Within seconds, what had begun as a gentle motion quickly turned violent as undead mobs rose from the ground in patches. Harry, not being a karmic favorite within the universe, had been dislodged from his vehicle and his group. He had urged them on, however, he would catch up. It was minutes later that the wards fell, sending a shudder through Harry's spine.

He had been relieved of his jacket and helmet shortly thereafter by a horde of decaying creatures, that he had been unfortunate enough to apparate into. The sound of revving engines from behind him caught his attention. He turned about, glancing at the growing forms of Neville and Bill before he clicked his tongue, a grin on his face. He apparated, the squeezing feeling lasting but a moment before he felt himself drop onto the back of Bill's snow mobile seat. The man cried out in surprise turning his unprotected head to look with astonished eyes into Harry's laughing ones, the vehicle swerved slightly to the side causing Harry to grip Bill's waist. The man grudgingly turned back to look in front of him, his cursing barely heard over the vehicle they rode. The slight brunette peered over the red head's broad shoulder to see a second form riding with Neville as well.

Harry gained Bill's attention with a poke of his finger into the man's abdomen. "Bill!" At the man's slight bob of the head Harry continued. "That Zabini?" He pointed at Neville's vehicle with the finger that had previously jabbed the older man in the stomach. Another bob of the head, though this one had an air of exasperation.

Harry nodded and slid down in his make shift seat, knowing the other man wouldn't see his gesture.

* * *

His legs burned and his feet slapped harshly against the ground. The lack of feeling in his toes made it difficult to stay coordinated and the pain in his arm kept him from concentrating correctly. Apparation would be almost impossible without harming himself further. Ron huffed loudly as he turned the next corner, stopping when his arm twinged uncomfortably from its position against his chest. He pressed his back against the cold stone, inhaling through his teeth. He rolled his head downwards as he heard the groans of another group of undead from around the corner, presumably from the other end of the hallway.

The red head pushed himself away from the wall, staggering slightly as his muscles spasmed. "Damn." He swore again, the word was quickly becoming his favorite. He hobbled a couple of steps before moving slightly faster at a jog. The groaning from the pursuing zombies spurred him on at a faster rate. Despite all of his injuries and the desperate situation he found himself in, Ron considered himself lucky he hadn't stumbled upon the coven of vampires. He huffed as his feet dragged on the ground, putting in some extra effort to lift them up higher.

Ron had been loose for what he estimated was really about a half an hour when it felt like a lifetime. Even though he was farther from his prison, he had never before felt so helpless and trapped. He rounded yet another corner barreling past a zombie and inadvertently knocking its arm off at the shoulder with a crunch. Ron snarled in impatience, if he had his wand he could apparate and end the madness; though with his lousy luck Mcnair had destroyed it.

Slowing when he came to the next corner, he peered around it. The sudden tilt in his body weight propelled his body forward awkwardly. Ron grunted in surprise and regained his balance jerkily, eyes on his feet. His size twelve feet shuffled to a stop, toe to toe with another set of feet. His blue eyes narrowed at the gray pair of feet, flickering down to the thick yellowing toenails. Ron's eyes traveled up the hunched form and stared into the gaunt rotting face of a zombie. The horrifying face was the last thing Ron saw before a sharp blow to the back of his neck sent him careening into oblivion.

* * *

His feet pounded against the slippery stone floors in the dark under levels of Mcnair's hideout; the freezing temperatures hardly bothering his sweat covered body. Harshly letting a curse fly ahead of him into the dark, Harry watched as it flared, illuminating the narrow hallway. Harry allowed himself to run into the nearby wall, using his arms as springs to launch himself to the right and continue on at his relentless pace. "Ron!" Harry called out not slowing down. A harsh blow to his left side sent him careening into the rough stone wall a distinct crack was heard when he hit, though Harry felt no immediate pain. The wizard tumbled to a stop, bruised and panting, glasses flying off and skittering loudly down the corridor. He twisted around awkwardly on the ground, emerald eyes locked onto dirty dark skinned feet, bare and unaffected by the below freezing temperatures. His eyes shot up to meet with the blood red eyes of his attacker. A sneer worked its way onto Harry's features.

"No need to call him." The man flashed a brilliant yet deadly smile at him, standing only a few feet from Harry's crumpled form. His thick accent sounded deceptively calm and soothing. "He can't hear you." The smile stretched wider and Harry snarled in rage, swinging his wand arm in a sweeping motion. The burning hex sailed into the wall adjacent to Harry, missing where the vampire had been.

"Shut up," Harry spat through clenched teeth as his ribs began to ache harshly. He attempted to rise from the floor despite the pain. "Just shut up."

The dark skinned vampire made a tisking sound from behind Harry. The-boy-who-lived crumpled back onto the slick floor the wet from it sinking into his shirt and pants creating more of a chill than it had before. "And here I thought that killing you would have been more of a challenge." Harry was positive that if he could see the vampire's face his grin would have rivaled the Cheshire cat's. The pain in the young man's ribs was almost unbearable; even so Harry managed to throw himself over onto his back, wand extended towards the vampire. He did not foresee the wand being plucked easily from his grasp and tossed carelessly over one broad shoulder of the dark skinned creature that loomed over him. Hungry eyes peering into his own, moving forward to fill Harry's blurry vision, every line on his perfect face sharper than it had been minutes before, every detail vivid. As he got closer the air around him seemed to grow warmer.

As the vampire closed in on his neck Harry was certain that the increase in temperature was part of the deathbed experience. At least he was, until a shielding charm wrapped around him causing the vampire to back up a few feet, confusion coloring his features. Features that were not there seconds later when an uncontrolled blast of fire enveloped his being. The blinding white caused Harry to close his eyes momentarily. Once he felt it was safe, Harry allowed his eyes to focus on the approaching dark skinned man in nothing but a pair of pants. The heat in the corridor seemed to linger with the man that Harry haltingly recognized as Blaise Zabini. His eyes then flickered to the bright red mop of hair that rounded the corner, considerable lighter skin, his breath stopped for a moment. "Harry?" Bill's voice, Harry released his breath. "Harry, are you alright?"

The considerably broader man knelt down next to Harry briefly, gripping his shoulder roughly. The smaller prone man let out a strangled cry of pain that caused Bill to remove his hand as if Harry had burned him. He eased his way around Harry glancing at the charred corridor, eyes lingering for a moment on an indistinguishable lump of glowing red metal and glass, a puddle on the floor, most likely Harry's missing glasses. They then wandered to the still smoldering wand that lay beyond that, winking at him from the darkened edges of the hall. Bill's left foot toed a neat looking pile of ashes. "Got the Vamp."

"My glasses. Bill, can you find my glasses?" Harry inquired, not moving an inch, breathing becoming more difficult for him by the minute. "My wand too." Harry added as an after thought voice sounding winded.

Bill looked again at the other man's destroyed affects as Blaise moved closer to Harry examining the younger man. "Erm," Bill scrunched up his nose. "The fire kind of…" He trailed off letting Harry piece it together himself.

Harry blinked back tears. "Even my wand?" He whispered to himself, the sound of his voice amplifying as it bounced off of the walls.

"I'm sorry Harry." Bill intoned softly, eyes averted from the man lying on the ground. He let the silence consume them for a few moments, tense atmosphere building. "We should probably go on." Bill broke the melancholy pause, striding forwards a few steps.

Lifting his eyes from Harry's mop of dark brown hair, Blaise eyed Bill skeptically. "Weasley, we don't know if Potter's even in the condition to be moved." He looked back down at the man at his feet. "For all we know it could be his back that's broken."

"Then you stay here." Bill turned and gave Blaise a look that Harry didn't catch.

"It's not my back." Harry interjected. Gazing up at the ceiling a determined look in his eyes.

With a sigh Bill turned himself away from the two again. "Zabini," he began only to be interrupted by Harry.

"Just go, Bill." The man's voice was resigned and tense. "The sooner we get to Ron the better." Bill nodded and took off at a run down the corner, the sound of his steps fading gradually.

"I thought you were a pacifist." Harry drawled out, exhaustion coloring his voice as Blaise crouched down nearby peering at Harry, as if he could figure out what was wrong without touching him.

"They bloody well ripped my pants." Zabini stated in way of answer, voice gruff with emotion, Harry quirked a tired brow at that. "What? They're my only pair; I'm allowed to be titchy about my pants every now and then. Besides, everyone knows that zombies and vampires aren't properly alive anyhow. Ruins the balance of things if they're allowed to exist in large numbers like this, it's almost a blessing that they can't copulate naturally." The darker man rambled in a valid attempt to drown out the silence.

"Copulate?" Harry snorted, eyes hooding as he allowed Blaise to prod at his right arm for a couple of moments. The thick calloused fingers worked their way haltingly down his extremity the man inquiring if he hurt every so often.

"Hey!" Harry instinctively twisted away from Blaise's fingers as they got closer to his ribs, he winced as the pain spiked with his movement.

Blaise ceased his inexperienced prodding with a grunt and a wince of his own. "Sorry," The apology sounded hollow, "I'm not exactly a mediwizard like Longbottom." The man's dark gaze redirected itself to the hallway behind him, the groaning of Zombies echoing eerily down it every so once in a while.

"That's not it." Harry dragged the sentence out confusion coloring his voice. Blaise looked back at Harry, their eyes meeting. Harry remained silent not quite knowing how to phrase what he wanted to say. His eyes moved from Blaise's face to the ceiling.

"Well, then what was it?" Blaise pushed on impatiently after waiting a minute or two for Harry to continue.

"Mcnair, what happened to him?" Harry inquired after the wizard they had seen briefly during the battle on the upper floor before he scurried away to the lower levels.

Blaise scowled at a stone in the wall next to him. "Can you stand?" He inquired and Harry allowed the change in topic for the moment.

"Probably not by myself." Harry informed the taller boy as he eased his way to Harry's other side and began helping him up. "Are you going to answer my question or play doctor?" Blaise halted and gave Harry a sidelong glance.

"You know that sounded right kinky don't you?" Blaise informed the man as he slipped Harry's left arm over his shoulders and grasped the other man's waist with his own right hand.

Harry grunted in pain at the transition, "Didn't mean it like that." He strained out as they took slow halting steps down in the direction that Bill had gone.

Blaise nodded his head and rolled his eyes, "Mcnair." He stated the name in a spiteful tone and Harry tilted his head towards him. "As soon as we started gaining ground and you had gone below he ran off." The dark skinned man grunted as Harry faltered and he was forced to support all of his weight. "Then that oversized tick went after you." He simplified as they reached the corner and turned tentatively. "And here we are. No one knows if Mcnair is still in the building or not."

Inhuman screeches and moans echoed down the hallway, Harry took that as a clear sign that the necromancer was still alive and well. They continued onward, wary of what might come their way. Blaise opened his mouth to say something when a wayward spell hit the wall only meters in front of them. The hallway shook and Harry would have toppled over had it not been for Blaise's firm grip on his waist.

"Stay." Blaise stated firmly pointing an index finger at Harry's nose as he helped Harry lean against a wall. "I mean it, Potter. Don't you dare move. You're in no state to do anything now." Then he was gone down the hallway.

Normally Harry reveled in his sightlessness, enjoying how the colors softened and blurred together. But now he watched the blurry lights and dark deformed blobs bob and weave, the slightly discomforting images were accompanied by alarming noises. It was almost impossible for him to tell who was winning. The young green eyed man grit his teeth in frustration and despite his powerless state he used the jutting stones in the wall to help him crawl along it towards the action. His last silver knife seemed to weigh more on his hip than it did earlier. He had lost a majority of them in battle; he was still not very good at throwing them. The walk seemed to take forever and his ribs ached and throbbed, and shot fiery pain through his body when he moved wrong.

He finally reached the corner, sounds of battle more pronounced than ever. He used the corner to help him peer around it. Spells were flying everywhere; the main target was a slim blur that had its blackened back to him. Harry guessed that the man was Mcnair. He pushed off marginally from the corner taking in the scene before him. The necromancer seemed to pulling bodies out of the ground and putting them between him and his attackers. Harry scowled and slowly drew his last knife, knowing that his next action could end badly. He'd never actually hit his target before, his lack of practice aiding in his almost constant failure.

With a short snarl Harry let the knife fly in Mcnair's direction hoping for at least a moment's distraction so that his comrades would be able to apprehend him. Harry inhaled painfully and crumpled to the ground in pain just as the projectile hit Mcnair in the shoulder. The necromancer doubled over with a pained wail, sounding almost inhuman. A second later his form dropped to the ground courtesy of a binding curse. His pained sobs turned into hysterical cackles. "You're," He paused, still chuckling to himself, "You're all too late."

"What?" Draco huffed out a sneer etched onto his face. His usually immaculate appearance was ruffled and his clothing was smeared with a wet black substance. All the blonde got in response to his demand was a manic laugh.

Ginny stepped forward her milky white eyes glaring out from the dark scars around them, her face grim and collected. "What are you talking about Mcnair?" The blind girl demanded, slowly, threat in her voice.

"WHERE IS HE?!" Fred roared stepping forwards and hefting the man up by the thick ropes that bounds him.

His face was twisted into an ugly smile, eyes wild and wide darting from person to person. "He's all ready gone."

* * *

It was hot, too hot. He felt like he was dying over and over again. This was hell, what he got for taking so many lives; He had taken lives hadn't he? He couldn't remember anything, not through the fire. There was too much pain, too much suffering to think, to do anything but breathe and scream. He let a raspy cry slip past his lips; the fire crawled through his veins. His hands rose to claw harshly at himself, he needed to get it out, to get the burning out of him. It was taking him piece by piece, eating at him for what felt like a lifetime. His magic snapped back trying to lash out at the fire. Trying to hinder its movement through his veins. Running rampantly through his body in an electric current, it spurred his weak movements. The fire had spread to his magical core tearing into it as well. Weakening it, devouring it.

His eyes were wide open, skittering around the dark ceiling, figures moved in and out of his peripheral vision. Having begged them for mercy had never worked before, now he had deemed them the demons in his purgatory. Ice-cold hands gripped him harshly, pulling his hands away from himself, stopping him from removing the pain. His magic zapped him harshly, as if reprimanding him and the burning feeling seemed to flair. Brilliant red eyes stared into his own pain filled ones, and a hideously white grin spread its way over the face of his own personal demon. "Now, now child," his voice was deep, patronizing. The tormented man wasn't listening to him; his focus was on the frigid hands of the newcomer.

"Please," he whimpered in a harsh voice, barely above a whisper. "Just kill me," He breathed out before he writhed from the pain, eyes squeezing shut. "Stop toying with me, and just kill me!" He snarled in finality, his magic stinging his captive's hands harshly. The man didn't seem to notice.

A stark bark of laughter assaulted his abused senses. "I already have Ronald, I already have."

* * *

Review Please. I would love to know what's wrong and what you thought of it. Again I'm very sorry It took me so long, but I'm confident that this chapter was pretty good. Tell me if you think otherwise as well. Again: review, review, review, review!


	4. Important Authors note

No! I know, and I apologize right now for making you wait so long just for this notice. But it is true, This story is on Hiatus for the time being. I meant to stick this up here before I left for bootcamp four months ago but alas, I didn't. And when I got back my vocabulary was a so skewed that you couldn't get me to call a door a door. (It was a hatch and no one could tell me differently) I have begun work on chapter four, however it's a very small piece and because I'm leaving tomorrow morning for further training and thus will be in a technological coma for three more weeks, I can't work on the blasted thing.

I apologize again for the disappointment and inconvenience to you all. I just wanted to let yall know what was happening and that I do plan on posting chapter four…just not for a while.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or the Twilight saga**

Hiatus, sorry I lied it's not really, just a major delay. Enjoy Chapter four, I hate this chapter so much…it took so long for me to write.

**Defy the Stars**

**Chapter 4**

_Hermione took a slow, graceful sip out of her ceramic mug, fingers delicately supporting the bottom of the cup. Her brown eyes were closed, a strand of wispy curl wafted down from her mussed up braid and her brows dipped in a slightly thoughtful expression. She slowly lowered the mug from her lips, eyes opening contentedly. _

_"Bloody hell!" Ron's aggravated voice broke through her carefully built tranquility. She averted her now annoyed gaze to the coffee that steamed in a soothing manner in the cup before her, inhaling slowly through her nose. "How can you drink this?" He waved crassly at the mug he held boldly in his left hand, "It's bloody awful!" He placed the mug loudly on the polished diner tabletop. His hand strayed to prop his chin up, dirty elbow pressed against the once clean table. Hermione continued to breathe deeply as she tilted her head back a little and let herself glare a little at Ron._

_"It's revitalizing." She argued stiffly back, eyebrows cocking in a silent challenge that was undoubtedly lost on the redhead sitting across from her. The brunette to her left, however, caught the strained tone in her voice. His wide green eyes darted back and forth as he opened his mouth to intervene._

"_Oh yeah…right." The redhead replied flippantly, smiling a little as he turned his head. "Like a good bout of Cruciatus. I got you Mione." He turned back to looking at the coffee in his mug questionably._

"_Hey!" Harry finally interjected leaning forward on the table left index finger extended as if to point something out. However, the two continued as if they hadn't heard anything at all. Harry lowered his hand in exasperation. Tuning out the argument completely and staring down at his ceramic mug. Harry supposed it was fruitless to attempt to get their attention in any normal sort of fashion, as it usually dragged him into the thick of things._

"_Oh, like you're one to talk!" Hermione nearly spat, eyes narrowing and body lurching forward. The exclamation jerking Harry from his thoughts at its volume. The young wizard grinned briefly as an idea formed in his head and, without thought to its direction or consequence, began to put it in action._

"_What is it, Harry?" Harry inquired of his coffee mug in a squeaky voice, sugary smile plastered to his face, uncaring if his friends noticed his actions at all._

"_What? What could I possibly do that is as nasty as drinking this-" Ron cut off to scrunch his nose down at the beverage in front of him._

"_Yeah Harry, spit it out." Harry ordered his mug in a deeper voice looking apathetic. _

"_Oh, I don't know!" Hermione sighed, leaning back in her chair once more and flopping her arms in an un-lady like fashion, "Scratching your back with eating utensils, That's a start." She looked back at him, face exasperated._

"_Oh I just wanted to say," Harry continued in his normal tone of voice, "That Hermione looks absolutely spiffing today, the weather sure is wonderful outside, you know the usual topic turners." He moved his hands expressively as he spoke, eyes rolling towards the ceiling then to the scenic pictures hanging on the wall nearby._

"_That's better than leaving my gross girly underwear lying around unlike some people!" Ron countered._

"_Oh Harry!" Harry gushed fluttering his eyelashes at his coffee cup, voice lifting back up to a girlish level. "You're so thoughtful!"_

"_Well I should hope you don't own any girly underwear to leave lying around, Ronald. Some people might think that you were disturbed." Hermione shot back, fingers curling around the edge of the table tightly. Ron was left sputtering indignantly at his girlfriend from across the table._

"_Yeah Harry." Harry made his voice go deeper again as he folded his arms over his chest, blinking slowly in what he assumed was a manly fashion, "This is really difficult for me to say, being all beefy and a man and all, but…I love you man."_

_Harry turned slightly and placed his hands in a delicate manner on his cheeks. "I love you too, Harry!" He cried out in a feminine fashion, unaware that both of his friends were staring intently at him._

_Ron scratched the back of his head and exchanged a worried glance with Hermione, their fight forgotten in lieu of Harry's dramatics. "Mate?" Ron inquired in a nervous tone, "You uh…you alright?"_

"_Harry?"_

* * *

The Styrofoam cups in both of his hands helped to fight off some of the unwelcome English chill. Harry shuddered deeper into his casual hoody, now fully aware of every hole in the garment. His lips were turned down into a saddened frown, and his eyes never left the name etched elegantly in the plain gray stone tablet that protruded from the ground. Hermione Weasley.

He exhaled deeply, allowing himself to close the distance between himself and the resting place of one of his best friends. Kneeling down, Harry smiled softly at the stone fixture, "Hey, Mione." He intoned softly in greeting before he lifted the cup in his left hand a little. "I brought you one this time." He placed it carefully at the base of the headstone, popping the cover open so the steam could rise from it. Harry settled himself next to the coffee, his back leaning against the cold stone as he took a grimaced sip from his own mug.

"I don't know if anyone's told you yet." Harry stared up at the dark looming clouds overhead. Eyes distant and mouth still held in a slight frown. "But Ron went missing nearly a week ago." Harry began, eyes sliding to stare at the back of the headstone in front of him. "He was kidnapped, and used as bait to lure the rest of us out." Harry shook his head at that and closed his eyes, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose and jean clad right knee sliding up to touch his chest. "No. That's not right." He whispered to himself then glanced over at the steaming cup. "That's not the truth. They were trying to lure me out." He looked back at the sky, pressing his head against the cool stone. "Ron was captured because of me, Mione."

"I know you'd say that it wasn't my fault. He was careless, it could happen to anybody." Harry folded his hands around his coffee cup once more; relishing the comforting heat it brought his frozen fingers. "And I know you'd be right, like always."

"Hermione, Ron died while we tried to rescue him." Harry finally choked, his throat constricting around the words as he said them. He took a sip of the beverage without flinching. "We got Mcnair, but they couldn't find Ron's body." Harry scoffed before taking a mouthful of coffee and swallowing thickly. "Mrs. Weasley refused to have a funeral without it. So we had a memorial service at the burrow instead." Harry gazed down at the cheap plastic lid on his coffee, his eyes emotional.

He was silent for a moment, "You know?" He inquired looking at the untouched coffee at his side, "I still have this feeling like he's out there somewhere, alive." Harry laughed softly and bitterly at himself. "And I think I fooled myself into believing that Ron's hand on the clock was jumping a little, like it wanted to hop back up to mortal peril." He snorted again, bitter smile dropping off of his face.

"But I know I can't dwell on this. I promised you guys that I wouldn't." Harry swirled his cooling coffee about before throwing back the last of it. "And I won't." Harry nodded to himself. "Ron wouldn't want me to. So I'll move on for him." Harry told the Styrofoam cup next to him seriously. "I'll do it for both of you. I'll finish what we- no." Harry stopped himself, standing up and facing Hermione's gravestone. "I'll finish what they started." Harry nodded a hard look of determination on his face. "And you were right Hermione, coffee is revitalizing."

* * *

The doorframe to Harry's room was swollen from the constant humidity; it grated against the side of the door loudly, sounding much like a chair leg scraping against a wooden floor when he attempted to force it into place. The sound was irritating and the process of forcing the door shut was cumbersome. Harry grit his teeth as he squinted at it, the blurry grain of the wood only serving to irritate him more as he was once again reminded of his current plight. Harry groaned as he heard the floor beside Remus' side of the bed creak. He pushed himself away from his doorway and made his way carefully down the stairs, into the kitchen.

Upon reaching the doorway to the kitchen Harry stopped to listen to Remus' footsteps as he meandered about his bedroom, then into the hall. The small telling creaks stopped by the stairs and lingered before turning and moving into the bathroom, the door shut and the shower started moments later. Harry let out a small sigh of relief; Remus had been attempting to talk to him for three days. He appreciated what the werewolf was trying to do, but all Harry wanted was some time to think and collect himself. Harry glanced at the mantel clock, grimacing when he realized he was going to be late for work. He huffed and grabbed his small briefcase from where he'd dropped it the day before when he'd gotten home from another day at the school.

A sense of dread filled his stomach when he thought of the tall bronze haired Cullen's subtle inquiries and watchful stare that had become more persisting since he'd come back. The boy made it impossible for him to not think about Ron. Harry shakily let out a breath before he shook his head and made his way out the door; letting it slam shut behind him as he hurried down the drive.

"Sorry I'm late everyone." Harry announced as he opened his classroom door, five minutes later than usual, his left arm supporting his small brown briefcase and his right wiping sweat from his brow. The class's chattering immediately quieted and the few remaining students took their seats. "Alright, pass up your homework assignments if you please. Today-" Harry swung into his lesson plan as if the day hadn't started out roughly for him. Half way through the class he let the teenagers get into small discussion groups, he leaned back in his chair, tapping a pencil on his forehead in thought. I light rapping on the glass startled him from his musing. He leaned forward abruptly, letting his pencil roll from his fingers to the floor. He squinted at the door, a wad of blur shifted just beyond the glass. He sighed and rose from his chair.

The person behind the door was a tall professionally dressed man, in loose black slacks and a white button down shirt. The outfit spoke of confidence and experience, his posture spoke a different story. He was hunched over, his elbows drawn in close to his body and his glasses seemed to be just barely perched on the end of his nose. The man's right hand shot away from his body, "Samuel Mason, Chemistry teacher." His deep voice seemed to not fit his extremely thin countenance.

Harry slowly took the man's hand, squinting warily at the man. "Harry Potter, English teacher."

"Well then Harry Potter, English teacher, might I enquire as to why in your few months of working with us, have I never once seen you enter the teacher's lounge?" Samuel inquired in a deep secretive voice, tone suggesting that he already had a thesis and was waiting on Harry to confirm it.

Harry's answer began with an uncertain hum and he allowed his eyebrows to draw together in confusion. "Bacause-"

"Now Mr. Potter, I'm not asking for excuses." Samuel interrupted; Harry felt much like a petulant child. The small statured brunette took a step back from the chemistry teacher. The man slumped over further, somehow drawing closer to his retreating coworker.

"Excuse me?" Harry inquired shakily.

"No, I don't believe I will excuse you, Mr. Potter." Samuel replied curtly, face leaning imposingly into Harry's personal space.

"Alright! Okay! I get it!" Harry interjected, "Well maybe I don't…" he backed into a wall, fingers massaging his eyes and pinching at the bridge of his nose. "What exactly are you getting at here?"

Samuel let a mildly creepy grin cross his blurred features. "I'm referring to your period of recluse." Samuel clarified. "Really Mr. Potter I must insist that you attempt to mingle a bit more. Your level of antisocial behavior can't be healthy." He backed out of Harry's personal bubble; the smaller man drooped in relief. "Thus you are now required to attend an afterschool function held in the teacher's lounge."

"Required?" Harry inquired, slightly overwhelmed by the chemistry teacher's invasive personality.

"Yes, today after classes." Samuel confirmed. "Don't think I won't be expecting you either." He leaned back in, bright blue eyes filling Harry's flawed vision. And then as abruptly as the introduction had begun it ended. Samuel turned and slumped down the hallway, making his way towards an exit. Harry let out a sigh of relief and jammed his hands into his trouser pockets.

"Hey…" He whispered to himself feeling around to his back pockets quickly. "That bugger took my cell phone."

* * *

"Mr. Cullen, what can I help you with today?" Harry inquired of his student, dutifully avoiding the young man's topaz gaze by stacking some homework papers, never mind that they were meant to be handed out next week, and placing them in his briefcase.

"You've been avoiding me." He stated confrontationally, taking a step closer to Harry's desk, left hand gripping his shoulder bag's strap. "Does this have anything to do with Ginny?"

Harry looked up abruptly, Edward's fierce posture took him aback momentarily. "What-? Where'd you hear that name?" he inquired suddenly suspicious of his student, half formed vampire theories coming back to him in a rush.

"You're hardly here anymore. You're so sad and miserable, but you won't let anyone help you." Edward continued taking a step around the desk as his teacher stood up. "Why won't you just talk to me?"

Harry narrowed his eyes, partially to squint at his student, "I hardly think that it's any of your concern Mr. Cullen."

"Harry-"

"I don't want to talk about it, least of all with a student, Mr. Cullen." Harry interrupted harshly, snapping his briefcase closed and briskly making his way out the door. He stalked down the nearly abandoned hallway past the smallest of Edward's siblings. She smiled a small sad smile at him as he passed, before rushing into the classroom he just left.

He made it halfway to the parking lot before he cussed softly to himself, remembering that the dirty blonde haired chemistry teacher still had his cell phone. He quickly changed course towards the teacher's lounge.

The room was dimly lit and small muffled noises came through the cheap glass pane. He cautiously opened the door, letting his blurred vision adjust slightly to the darkened room. He spotted at least two figures at the farthest coffee table in front of a television. The lights clicked on and a tall stooped figure stood slowly from its seat. "Harry Potter, English Teacher!" Came the deep yet jovial tone of Samuel as he lurched across the small lounge towards Harry, pulling the smaller man inside quickly.

"I see he managed to rope you in to this Thursday afternoon farce as well." A droll female voice cut in. Harry squinted at the second figure as he was pulled further into the room. "Josie Prather," She introduced from her seated position she let her open hand prop up her head, she allowed her gaze to linger on Harry before turning back to stare at the flickering television screen.

"Josie's a history teacher." Samuel explained in a brisk manner as he guided Harry to a chair.

"Thank you for that elaboration Samuel." Josie drawled and she let her hand drop back to the table.

"We're having a monster movie day, Frankenstein." Samuel stated ignoring his companion's faint animosity. His statement made Harry blink a few times before he turned his head to stare at Samuel. "Left trouser pocket."

"Wait, what?" He inquired dumbly.

"Your phone." Josie stated as Frankenstein lumbered across the screen causing a woman to scream. "It's in your left trouser pocket."

Harry lifted his butt out of the chair and reached into his pocket and felt the slim form of his phone. "How the bloody hell-" Harry inquired head whipping from left to right, suspiciously regarding his coworkers.

"Its how Sammy got me here too." Josie interrupted him again, lips pursing into a fine line. "I asked him how he'd like it if someone stole his phone too...turns out, he doesn't own one."

Samuel slouched over a plastic green mug, blue eyes regarding the newest addition to the coffee table.

Harry slumped in his seat, squinting at the television. "Well I'd say I was surprised, but that would be a lie." Harry muttered to himself making out shapes moving on the screen.

Josie hummed, "Well it's weird but you'll get used to it." She turned to him eyes studying Harry once more, a small grin quirking her lips.

"You seem to be having trouble seeing Mr. Potter." Samuel intoned lurching over his mug in Harry's direction.

"Yeah," Harry sighed, "My glasses-" he paused remembering an intense flash of fire. "broke."

Josie tutted, "And you haven't gotten them replaced?" she asked, also leaning towards him.

"I'd say the answer to that would be obvious." Samuel replied to her question, earning him a poisonous scowl. He receded back over his mug, a thoughtful look coloring his pale features. "Why haven't you gotten new ones?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply when Josie cut him off again. "Why would he? His eyes are remarkable without them." Josie peered at Harry's face causing him to shuffle a bit more to the left on his seat.

"Actually," Harry interjected nervously, "I just haven't gotten around to it."

Samuel let out a sound of realization. "You don't know how to get new ones do you?" Harry's expression fell. "I can help you with that if you like."

"That would be great." Harry breathed.

* * *

The contents of Ron's tattered knapsack were strewn about on the kitchen table. A worn looking photo album that Ron had made into a scrapbook of sorts sat off to the left, a canteen that replenished itself when emptied a little ways beyond that, some miscellaneous bits of muggle money, from several different countries, and a knut or two were piled up nearer the center of the table. But the one object that held the most interest sat in front of Harry.

The young wizard in question was leaning back in his chair, arms folded and hands tucked under his arm pits. His emerald eyes traced over it speculatively, small thoughtful frown turning into a scowl as he sat back deeper into his seat, Hands moving from their previous position to rake through his hair, legs stretching out straight under the table to cross at the ankles. "Why the fuck…." Harry paused, eyes closing wearily in thought, shutting out the contents of the table. His hands moved to rub at his eyes, a habit he'd grown fond of.

Ron, the sneaky bugger, had somehow gotten his hands on- "A bleedin time turner." Harry swore and threw his arm back into his lap. Peering at the delicate looking object as if it held the answers he sought. He reached out and snagged it, rolling the object around in his hand. Harry frowned then, taking in something about it that seemed odd. He twiddled with the rings drawing it closer to his face as he did so. "There's no writing on the rings…" he concluded finally flicking the time turner gently. It was a fraud, a good one at that. The only tell was that the forger had most likely enchanted the words onto the device, a trick that Harry obviously saw through. The brunette twisted the rings a bit, running his fingers over them as his eyes traced over the contents of the table, stopping when his fingers hit a rough spot on one of the rings.

His eyes shot to the time turner again, he squinted at it twisting it to the side to allow the light to catch the scratches. _'__48 Hours' _was scrawled messily on the outermost ring. "Well that's useless then isn't it?" Harry glowered at the small device. The sound of car wheels crunching along the unkempt driveway made harry wearily get out of his chair, shoving the fraudulent device into his pocket and gather Ron's possessions into the knapsack.

He casually began to make his way towards the front door curiosity peaking. He didn't expect Remus and Tonks to be home for a few more hours, cautiously he made his way around the couch, eyes darting to glimpse through the parted living room curtains to catch a peek at the vehicle that had come up the drive. His eyebrows hit his hairline at the site of a silver Volvo sitting smugly just outside. He slowly turned his eyes to give the door a discerning look. The doorbell chimed a warm tune and Harry sighed softly, forcing himself toward the door. With a reluctant hand he pulled the door open to reveal a downcast Edward Cullen. Harry scrunched his brows at the young man. "Mr. Cullen, to what do I owe this pleasure?" he inquired tone skeptical.

The bronze haired teen looked down at Harry with a calculating gaze; Harry felt the light mental prod that he had associated with Edward's presence start up almost immediately. Edward's expression seemed to falter slightly and his nostrils flared, "I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He paused for a moment, his nostrils flaring again. "Harry-"

"Please, Mr. Cullen, don't use my first name." Harry interrupted with a groan.

Edward continued on as if he hadn't heard his teacher's protest, "Do you own a dog?" The shorter brunette turned a frown on his impromptu house guest.

"No…I don't believe so…" Harry drew the answer out suddenly suspicious at the turn in conversation.

Edward forced a smile onto his face, "Oh, my mistake then." Edward casually dismissed his own question, resting his weight on the door frame and stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. Harry shifted nervously from to foot as Edward's eyes looked him over, serious look contradicting the smile that curved along his face.

"Apology accepted." Harry threw out, his voice making Edward's eyes snap to his face again. Harry raised both of his eyebrows at the taller teen. "And I'm doing well thank you for checking."

The pale young man's demeanor lightened and his expression morphed into the infernal grin that Harry often found himself avoiding. "That's good to hear." He intoned in an almost affectionate tone.

Harry smiled at the boy, the action seeming forced. "Do you want to come in?"

Edward straightened up, momentary surprise making its way across the boy's features before a small grin washed it away. "I would love to."

Harry stood to the side of the front door and Edward elegantly strode over the threshold, coming to a stop just behind the living room couch, head moving slowly from side to side, eyes taking in every detail of the small homely structure. "Can I get you anything?" Harry inquired, closing the door and walking past his student into the well lit kitchen. The young brunette quickly cleared off the chair with Ron's knapsack, relocating it to the corner. "Tea, hot cocoa, Coffee?" He stood against the doorframe, crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side, observing Edward.

"Oh," Edward allowed his intense gaze to flicker back to his teacher "No thank you, I'm fine." Harry frowned a little.

"Well then I'll make extra anyways." Harry stated, a little indignant tone lacing his words. He turned on his socked feet and strode to the kettle.

Edward smiled slightly at his teacher's back before moving to the mantel to examine a picture of a happy couple on their wedding day.

Harry poked his head out of the kitchen door, mouth open to shoot a question at his student. He halted however at the sight of the taller boy looking through the multitude of photos on the mantle. He slowly pulled himself back to the stove, he allowed himself to lean against the counter just to the left of the oven, arms crossed as he wiggled his socked toes in a waving rhythmic motion. "How's that sonnet coming along there, Mr. Cullen?" Harry inquired, eyes still following his own waving toes.

"Well it's coming, not well, but it's coming." Edward's voice floated through the doorway.

"How far have you gotten?" Harry inquired.

Edward let out a hum, "Maybe a line or two." He responded truthfully.

"It's been a week!" Harry patronized his toes pausing in their waving only momentarily before reversing the motion.

"If you remember," He moved to stand in the doorway drawing Harry's attention from his toes. "You kind of disappeared on me." His smile was gentle and seemed to warm his odd topaz eyes.

"I apologize." Harry stated firmly.

"Well that's all well and good." Edward seemed to sigh coming to stand in a pose, not unlike a disappointed parent, in front of Harry. "But it doesn't take away from the fact that you've been neglecting one of your students."

Harry let his mouth open to retort but let it snap closed, rethinking his answer. "It was kind of urgent." He let out, his mood sinking somewhat as his thoughts moved to Ron. His shields wavered mildly and he looked back down at his still toes, missing the slight widening of Edward's eyes. "I don't really want to talk about it." He added on a few moments later.

"Alright." Edward agreed softly as he stepped closer. Harry looked up when he saw Edward's long arms brace themselves on either side of him, his nose only inches from the other boy's. "That's alright Harry."

"Edward?" Harry whispered, confusion sweeping over his features. The kettle on the stove began to whistle in an almost inaudible way. "I should get tha-"

Edward hushed him gently. "I want to try something." His breath was cold on Harry's lips, causing a shiver to go down the brunette's spine.

Emerald eyes widened as the boy in front of him began to slowly move his face closer to his own. As soon as Edward's lips made contact with his own it felt like an electric shock coursed down to his toes. The sensation only lasted a moment, and as abruptly as the gesture had started, it ended and the bronze haired boy stared into Harry's eyes evenly.

"I like you Harry. I like you a lot," Edward breathed out against Harry's lips. "When I'm away from you, I feel like a part of me is missing. And when we got into that argument." He let out a cold breath, his icy thumb stroking the inside of Harry's wrist. "The thought of you being angry at me, was so painful."

Harry opened his mouth then closed it again, He didn't know what to say, how to feel, how to react. Harry's eyes darted back and forth in an attempt to look into both topaz eyes. The shorter brunette frowned at him and let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything to the boy in front of him. "I think," He started in a breathless tone, "I think you should leave." …Anything but that.

He stood motionless, watching Edward as the boy slowly allowed himself to stand on his own, expression guarded. "I need some time." Harry clarified, hoping to ease the pain he had just caused the younger man.

Edward nodded and left Harry leaning against the counter next to the stove. The shorter male stood frozen until he heard the Volvo start up and gravel crunching under its wheels. Once the rev of engine could no longer be heard Harry allowed himself to slide down onto the kitchen floor and lean his head on his knees, kettle sharply whistling in the background.

* * *

Harry gripped the thin, pointy faced, wizard by his dirty suit's lapel, his mouth thinning into a straight disappointed line. "Jimmy." Harry pushed his weight onto the slightly shorter man "You're not singing the right tune tonight."

"Oh c'mon Messer Potter. I toll' you all I know" Jimmy panted out quickly, his apparent anxiety kicking in. He lowered one of his raised hands to comb through his greasy hair, beady eyes avoiding Harry's own.

"Jimmy, I've known you for what?" Harry inquired voice lowering to a gruffer tone.

"What?" Jimmy questioned momentarily confused, "Oh, I'd say about four years."

"Yeah that sounds about right, four years." Harry concluded relieving Jimmy of the pressure of his weight. "I think we know each other pretty well, Jimmy. So I know when you're holding out on me. I'm only going to ask you-" Harry dropped his arm to his side and took a step back. Jimmy staggered to his feet and straightened his jacket front out. "One more time. What did Ron want with the time turner?"

Jimmy took a quick glance at Harry's face before raking his finger's through his hair. "Jesus, Potter…" Jimmy gasped out drawing his dirty hand down his face. "all he said was he wanted some time." Jimmy turned so he was facing the entrance to the alleyway, giving Harry a long hard look over his shoulder. "It's all I know, I'm sorry Messer Potter."

The man popped out of existence, leaving Harry to stare at a brick in the wall, eye's distant as he lost himself in thought. It had been a full week since the incident in his kitchen; Edward had given him the space that he'd asked for and then some. The whole Cullen family had been rumored to be on an extended camping trip. He'd used that space to investigate Ron's travel path prior to his abduction, hoping to come across something that would hint at the vampires that had killed him, and the flawed time turner he'd managed to get off of Jimmy.

Looking at his watch, the young wizard cursed quietly to himself. He needed to be at work twenty minutes ago, and he'd been absent and tardy too much this term as it was.

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled the small hourglass out of his pocket. He stared at it for a long moment, before he slipped the thin chain around his neck. He took a deep breath and gave the turner a twist.

* * *

Crimson eyes pierced the crisp night air, intent on the man as he staggered out of the cab. His meaty hand missing the open door, fumbled the second time and finally slammed it over excessively. He pressed a wad of bills into the cab drivers waiting palm before stumbling towards an apartment building. The cab slowly drove its way around the next corner, gravel crunching under its tires.

The man ran his hand over his face, grunting as he began to dig around in his pockets. When he didn't find what he wanted he swore loudly to himself before turning around and blinking blearily at the pavement under his feet. "Nice job Henry," He grumbled to himself still fishing hopefully in his left coat pocket, "You've lost your keys again." A sudden rough chuckle caught his attention; Henry's head snapped up, eyes squinting into the dimly lit road. Where his cab had stood only moments before there was now a tall, pale man. He stood still as stone, eyes boring into Henry's own. Something in the back of his mind told him something wasn't right about the red headed stranger, but Henry pushed the doubts aside. "Hey buddy." He called to the man, standing up straight as the man's lips turned up into a disconcerting smirk. "You live here?"

The red head said nothing in response and Henry narrowed his eyes before hacking a cough and turning back around. "Thick ass bastard." He murmured to himself. His eyes flickered back to the door of the apartment complex, only to come face to face with a pair of uncomfortably crimson eyes. "Mary mother o' god." He slurred, blinking rapidly as he took in the red headed stranger that had just been yards behind him. "How the hell-" The red head's hand latched onto his arm, the grip was cold, hard and unrepentant. Before Henry had time to tell him off his head was jerked painfully to the side and a pair of lips had begun to ghost over his flushed skin. They worked their way up to his ear, where he could feel them curl into a smile against his earlobe.

The man inhaled sharply and painfully nuzzled his cold nose into the junction between Henry's neck and shoulder, "Hey mister." His voice was low and silky, the quality made Henry shiver. "Wanna see a magic trick?" he wasn't given a chance to answer as the man sunk his elongated canines into his neck, and Henry's world, his life, disappeared.

Ron stood over the empty husk at his feet his red hair falling over his crimson eyes, a thoughtful look marring his pristinely masculine features. When Ron had first come to, he had been confused, pain filled memories wound hazily and half formed through his mind. His throat had burned and Venom had filled his mouth, the intense thirst had added to his panic and confusion. But James had shown him that by feeding he could make the ache go away. He stepped over the crumpled form and vanished silently in a wisp of black smoke

Hardly glancing at his new surroundings, Ron made his way thoughtlessly across the small one room shack he had found for himself about a week ago. Smoke curled around his legs and drifted out of the single, broken, window in the small structure.

While James, Ron had decided that he quite liked that name for some reason, had attempted to help him with his unusual teleporting ability, he just seemed off to the newborn. So after a month of their tutelage Ron had gone off on his own.

He paced back towards the doorway and turned abruptly back towards the dumpy couch at the back of the small room. Though he fed regularly, the hazy memories he so fervently attempted to block out drifted and stirred in his mind, seeming closer and closer every day. The only thing that seemed clear in his mind was a pair of vibrant green eyes. They taunted him, filled with emotions and knowledge. They knew the answers he longed for, yet feared; he could see them swimming in those eyes. If Ron could only find those eyes, he would know what it was that he ought to. He let himself fall onto the couch and he stared unblinkingly at the rotting wooden wall across from him. Maybe armed with the knowledge of who, or what, he had been he could finally find the means to close the void he had had since his awakening. Feeding just wasn't enough anymore.

* * *

Again sorry for the delay, Hope this chapter lived up to your expectations. Review!


	6. Chapter 5

**AN: I know I'm ridiculous! It's been forever since I updated! I have to be honest I was sitting on a good majority of this chapter for a while. I honestly couldn't post it because the pieces that were missing were kind of necessary to the whole plot. My excuses will remain mine as to why I took so long to post this chapter and I hope you'll just except the fact that this chapter is longer than usual as my authorly way of grovelling for your forgivness. Thank you for those of you who waited patiently for this chapter.**

**Just a reminder to everyone, Harry discovered a time turner in Ron's bag and used it. I would also like to note that I tried to eliminate a majority of the confusion that the time travel in this chapter may have generated.**

**Harry is in two places at once in this chapter. He essentially takes a forty-eight hour trip back in time and lives through four days in order to use the time turner again. I'm trying to stick with him as he rolls through his time traveling, so we will not be experiencing too many dual Harry moments. So if you are still confused please level any and all questions at me when you review.**

**Again, I apologize for the long wait and, as always, hope it lives up to the standards the last four chapters have set. This story remains without a beta, so excuse any mistakes you may find.**

**Disclaimer: Once again. I do not own Harry Potter or Twilight.**

* * *

_**Defy the Stars**_

_**Chapter 5**_

The man stepped into the small cramped elevator, the heavy bags under his eyes becoming more pronounced in the fluorescent lighting. He glanced up at the notes that still lingered fluttering near the ceiling and pressed a button on the control panel. Running his hand through his mussed, mousy brown hair, a frown worked its way onto his thin pointed face as he wiggled on a black fedora.

Henry Jenkins had always counted himself amongst the forward thinkers in the Department of Magical Creature Regulation and Control. In his humble opinion, the regulations for monitoring the darker magical creatures that had sided with the Dark Lord were far too lax, though he would hardly say so in a public light. So when Dolorus Umbridge came to him a year or so after the battle of Hogwarts with projected regulations, who was he to deny a good idea when it landed on his desk in such a nice orderly package?

Once the bill was signed and the new policy put in place, there was an immediate influx of immigration from wizarding Europe to more open territories. Protests happened frequently amongst the differing magical creature communities. Protests then turned to riots, and violent preventative measures were approved of.

Things were beginning to get out of hand, and Henry began to doubt his decision to pass on Dolorus's ideas. Just as he was about to suggest a repeal, or at least some less restricting laws, Dolorus sent him yet another proposal. The newest angle insinuated that the riots were only dangerous if they were held amongst the citizens of Wizarding Britain and suggested that the safest course of action would be to segregate the general public. Henry was skeptical of this, though the more he listened to her reasoning the better the idea sounded.

With segregation came prejudice, fear and more violence. It wasn't long until key members of the ministry supporting the new sate of things began to end up missing or dead.

Henry sighed as he stepped out of the ministry's visitor entrance, the rain tapping lightly against his fedora. Squinting through the dankly lit street, he spotted a bus stop some yards away from the booth. With yet another sigh he started trudging towards the stop. Though nobody blamed him for the deaths of the people that had been found brutally murdered, he couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for the whole mess in the first place.

"Henry…" The whisper on the wind caught his ear. He turned his head from side to side, quickly scanning his surroundings for any signs of life as he wrenched his wand from his pocket. He tugged his fedora down lower over his eyes, and hugged his briefcase to his chest.

"Who's there?!" He called out timidly, eyes darted back and forth. He strained his hearing, desperately trying to hear anything over the light pitter patter of the rain on the pavement.

"Henry!" The female voice rasped out, as if in his ear, followed swiftly by an unhinged cackle. He stopped and twisted about on the sidewalk, his eyes bloodshot and straining into the drizzle. A startled cry worked its way past his lips as his wand flew from his grasp and into a shadowed alley. "Henry, Henry, Henry!" The voice began to sing his name to the tune of 'Ring around the Rosie', the sound echoing around him and his head moved about rapidly. His breathing was shallow and his grip on his briefcase tightened as he edged towards his wand.

"Boo!" his vision suddenly filled with the deranged and emaciated face of Bellatrix Lestrange. Her hair fell wildly in her face and her skin was sunken and sallow, glowing sickly in the yellow lamp light.

"Please, please don-" He whispered, knees quaking; she interrupted him with a hissed incantation and a flash of deadly green light.

"From your ashes, the Dark lord shall rise once more." She whispered to the twisted body of Henry Jenkins as his blank eyes stared up into the street lamp. With another hiss and a sharp jerk of her wrist, his body was engulfed in flames that sizzled and hissed in the rain.

Slowly she twisted about on the heel of her boot enjoying the sound of the gravel crunching underneath them, and began to hum as she took staggered swaying steps towards the nearby alley. Behind her, embers flared into the air as the late Henry Jenkins' ribcage collapsed upon itself, his skull grinning ghoulishly up at the street lamp.

"Ashes, Ashes, we all fall down."

* * *

Rain. That's all it ever seemed to do in London nowadays. Not that he was complaining of course, Harry had always quite partial to the rain. It had a sort of cleansing feel to it. The rain was one of the reasons he'd come to love Forks so much.

Green eyes glanced down at the copy of the daily prophet in his hand. The ink was starting to smudge and blend, looking much like a three-year-old's finger painting. But, like the rain, Harry found he didn't mind this either. He chucked the soggy paper into the nearest rubbish bin and crossed his legs as he slumped lower on the park bench. Harry could feel water sliding down his face, drops following the contours of his face as he tipped his face to the sky and closed his eyes. He stuffed his hands into his jacket pocket, and fingered his new wand enjoying the feeling of his magic welling up inside of him. Rosewood, thirteen inches, with a dragon scale core.

The title was still caught in his mind, along with the now soggy picture. There had been a slew of murders in London within the past few months. At first there was nothing other than the fact that they worked at the ministry that linked the victims to one another. Then, as Ministry regulations began making living as anything other than a wizard difficult, it all started piecing itself together. Only people that supported the new Magical Creature control methods were targeted.

The fact that it was ministry members who were attempting to strip civil rights from magical creatures threw Harry for a loop. Though the murders stank of Bellatrix Lestrange, it still didn't make any sense to Harry. Bellatrix wouldn't give two damns about civil rights of any creature or wizard she deemed beneath her. It seemed more like a cause Fenrir would kill for; however the bodies were found burned to a crisp, which wasn't the werewolf's style either. It was entirely possible that the two were working together, however the notion still seemed farfetched.

The Auror's were theorizing that it was more likely a brand new extremist organization hell bent on regaining rights for Magical creatures in Great Britain. However, if the last remainder of Voldemort's forces were behind all of this Harry was certain that McNair had been sent to America to lure both Ron and himself out of Britain.

Though Harry was willing to bank on deatheaters being behind the string of murders, the Aurors had a valid theory as well. But both ideas seemed to lack something, they both seemed off. He tipped his head forward, quickly taking note of the time on his wrist watch, staring down the well worn park path as he stood. Harry surmised he was sitting in the Lupin's kitchen back in Forks at this very second looking over Ron's things. He still had another twelve hours before he had to return to Forks. Twelve hours before he had taken his forty eight hour trip back in time. Disregarding his drenched clothing he took a few steps down the path and, not seeing any passer-byers, Harry apparated.

Wide red eyes hastily scanned over the area where the man with the impossibly green eyes, Potter he vaguely recalled, had just been. Gone, disappeared, like magic. The hazy memories bubbled to the surface of his mind again and he allowed the branch he'd been holding aside to snap back into its original position. He had tracked various people with green eyes over the past week or so, none of which stirred the memories, none of which had the right color eyes. None of them were right, until this one. Until this man, the man with powers just like his. The more he thought about him the more he was sure. Sure that this man could provide answers to his questions. He could give him the memories he was lacking. Fill the hole.

With a whispered oath, too quiet for human ears, Ron dropped from the tree. The fact that he could vanish without a trace provided strong evidence that the man was the one Ron was looking for. It also made finding him again a difficult task. Ron snarled and swung his fist into the trunk of the tree, splintering it, before he too disappeared with a snap and a black cloud of smoke.

* * *

The small foray into the past had given Harry some time to sort out his thoughts, and plan accordingly. Balancing his pencil precariously on a knuckle in his left ring finger, Harry took the chance to look over his second period class. The young student's heads were bent over their test papers. The sounds of pens and pencils intermittently scribbling over paper filled the room.

Harry had decided that he was going to use Ron's time turner to his advantage. As it was he didn't think he could slip away from the Lupins' watchful gaze without rousing their combined suspicion and worry, a scenario that had Harry cringing and sent the pencil plunging to the desktop with a small clatter. A few curious heads rose before bending again to their papers. Harry's eyes evenly met the molten gold gaze of Alice Cullen, before she too slowly dipped her head back to her test.

Once again balancing the pencil on his knuckle, Harry allowed his mind to wander back to the topic at hand. He'd already used up most of his sick and leave days for the year, and couldn't afford to miss more work without completely quitting and giving up…

He frowned. What would he be giving up by leaving? His cover? The pencil toppled back to the desk again, this time Harry allowed it to roll onto the floor, frowning at it pensively. He was to internally preoccupied to notice how he drew His students attention for a second time that period. Far too distracted to notice Alice's shocked expression as her fluttery visions of her professor disappeared all together.

* * *

Not only was keeping his distance from Harry a nearly impossible feat after Alice's visions had stopped completely, it was the most maddening display of restraint Edward had shown in weeks. Of course he kept his distance, allowing the man to work out his confusion, but it didn't mean he couldn't observe him in the mean time.

When he wasn't watching him during class, he was watching him through the minds of other students and faculty members. Watching him through the faculty members' was slightly more enlightening than observing him during lessons. Edward had noticed that he had become friends with two other teachers; Mr. Mason, Alice's Chemistry teacher, and Ms. Prather, Emmett's History teacher.

Around the two of them Harry truly let his guard down, he was tired and troubled, more so than ever before. Edward had to forcibly march himself past his teacher's desk after class, without even sparing the man a glance, in order to avoid a confrontation like the one in Harry's kitchen that had occurred not but a few weeks ago; no matter how much he wished he could have a repeat episode, preferably without the negative reaction afterwards.

Despite all of his seeming self control during the school day, it was after hours when he would perch in one of the taller trees bordering Mr. and Mrs. Lupin's property, preferably with a clear line of sight into Harry's bedroom, and do a little reconnaissance. He was watching the man flip through a photo album for the second night in a row, a pastime the man seemed to repeat multiple times a night, smiling wanly at whatever photos were housed within.

Part of Edward itched to enter the room when the man was asleep and look at the album for himself, for a better grasp on what the man's life was like before he came to Forks.

"I know you're up there." the English accented voice he'd only heard in passing, during his evenings of Harry watching, startled him out of his current train of thought. Edward peered through the pine needles into the wolf like gaze of Remus Lupin, inwardly cursing himself for letting his guard down. "You may as well come down here. We need to talk."

Edward debated for a split second before dropping to the ground scant inches from Remus. To his credit the older werewolf didn't flinch.

"How long-" Edward stood slowly.

"Long enough." Remus answered shortly, "What do you want from him?"

Edward narrowed his eyes at the man. "I won't hurt him."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions, Mr. Cullen." Remus quoted sharply, his own gaze sharp and defensive.

"You're trying not to make this about what I am, considering what you are." Edward smirked at the older man as he reared back confusion clouding his eyes. "You're thoughts are very loud, Mr. Lupin."

Remus smiled slightly before he breathed in deeply. As he exhaled his mind became muffled and fuzzy, his smile turned into a smirk. "I know what you are, Mr. Cullen. But I doubt you have the slightest clue as to what we are."

"He's in danger." Edward found himself blurting out aggravated with the werewolf before him.

Remus only smiled at him tersely. "When is he not?" The question was rhetorical and Edward found an unsettling feeling squirm in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

Harry flipped through the photo album for what seemed like the millionth time; staring at the faces of his friends, both living and dead. This time however, he was going to add some memories. He glanced at the picture that Josie had snapped of Harry in the Optometry office.

Harry was standing in the middle of a starch room, glasses lining the wall behind him, a pair of hideous leopard print frames perched on the very end of his nose. Sam's hunched form lurked in the background, smiling tersely as he held up a second horrendous set of frames, not any better than the ones perched on Harry's nose, for the camera to see. Harry's expression was an awkward mix of emotions. He appeared as though he were trying very hard to be annoyed and failing miserably. Harry chuckled at the memories before focusing on the album again.

He smiled as he came across a picture of Ron, Hermione and himself all laughing near the lake at Hogwarts. If he wasn't mistaken it was during their sixth year, Collin had eagerly taken the picture for them. He was about to flip the page, when something caught his eye.

A small scrap of paper was just barely sticking out from behind a picture of Ron and Harry playing chess in the Gryffindor common room, Harry seemed to be losing abysmally as usual. With cautious fingers, Harry slowly pulled at the small scrap of paper slowly freeing it from behind the picture. He turned it over in his hand and frowned, it was a safety deposit vault stub from Gringotts. Vault 4013. By itself, the number did Harry no good, without a key he wouldn't be able to find out just what Ron had been safeguarding in Gringotts.

He turned his frown upon the empty bag on the table before leaning forward and dragging it towards him. After going through all the smaller pockets and examining it for any concealment spells, Harry turned his investigation to the largest pocket. He found, after drawing his new wand and using a detection spell, a false bottom. With care he unraveled the magic Ron had set there. A small vault key rewarded his efforts; Harry made a mental note to visit Gringotts next time he used the time turner.

* * *

The goblin peered peevishly at Harry from over his half moon glasses as the young man rifled through his pockets. "It's in one of these." He mumbled, pausing as he remembered Hagrid had been in almost the same position as he had nearly half a decade ago.

A single sparsely haired brow rose. "I'm sure it is, Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled sheepishly, as his fingers brushed against the time turner. Digging a bit deeper and clasping a hold of the vault stub. He handed it to the irritated goblin, Murok by the name plate on the front of the desk.

"Very well, Mr. Potter." Murok drawled before hopping, nearly comically, down off of his stool leaving Harry to his thoughts. Ron had felt that whatever it was he had in the lock box had been worth protecting. Why hadn't he just sent it to any of his friends and family for safe keeping? Why hadn't he sent it to Harry? They were in this together…had been in this together. It didn't make any sense to him.

The sound of the small wooden lock box being set on Murok's cherry desktop jolted Harry out of his thoughts. Murok's obscenely long fingers disappeared from view before the Goblin himself shimmied back up onto his stool. He straightened his comb over and folded his hands on the desktop.

"Mr. Potter, The instructions the late Mr. Weasley," Harry winced, "attached to this lock box were very explicit. You understand that there are hexes and jinxes attached to this box to confirm your identity, Bank Policy." Murok explained, imperiously pushing a folded white piece of paper towards the wizard.

Harry nodded, taking the sheet from the peering Goblin. As soon as his fingers made contact with the paper words began to scrawl across the paper, in Ron's handwriting. Swallowing hard, Harry carefully read Ron's message.

_Harry, _

_I know what you're thinking. And I didn't want to send any of this to you without knowing for sure if it was good. Hermione always told me I tended to jump to conclusions. _

_Harry, this is really big. Bigger than just some vengeful deatheaters. We have to be careful on this one. Sorry about all the secrecy but under the circumstances I'm sure you'll understand. Constant Vigilance._

Harry looked up from the letter and then, in an odd mixture of sheepishness and suspicion, looked around. "The letter is spelled only for your eyes Mr. Potter there's no need for your paranoia." Murok drawled looking increasingly unimpressed. "Inside the box you will find a key, a picture and an address, also bewitched only for your eyes."

Harry flipped the lid open on the box and watched as Ron's familiar scrawl appeared on the slip of paper. 169 Higgins Lane, Apt 13B. He nodded handing Murok the slip of paper and the letter, he then slipped the key into his pocket, hearing it clink against the time turner. Harry thanked Murok, and after taking a glance at the picture of a small homely looking living room, apparated.

A wall sized collage of moving photographs, old news articles, hand written notes and pages from books greeted Harry into the apartment. Stepping forward, Harry nearly tripped over _Vampiric politics and you_ written by Vlad Werner that was lying haphazardly on the floor. With a cursory glance Harry concluded that the small apartment had no doors leading to the outside world, a single fireplace, enchanted windows and looked like the Gryffindor common room after a victory party. Dirty laundry, books and take out boxes cluttered the floors and three out of the four walls were covered in the odd collaboration of paper and pictures.

As he picked his way through the both the colossal mess and the copious notes and pages of references, everything that had seemed wrong about the slew of murders, that missing piece of the puzzle, clicked into place.

* * *

The gardens were as stunning under the full moon as they were during the day. Red eyes scanned the trees and greenery, swathed in a pale light, with an unconcerned air. He tilted his head backward to allow his pitch black hair to fall out of his aristocratic face. Looking to his left at the hooded figure of a woman next to him, he smiled a small smile as she turned from gazing at the still pond to him, her slim pale fingers finding his own. Brilliant red eyes gazed into a second pair of equally brilliant red eyes for a moment, their already halting pace stopped momentarily before they resumed their pace and their fingers dropped away from each other.

"Aro." She inquired pushing her hood back to reveal a head full of dark black curls. Her eyes twitched off of him to gaze in slight concern at the large guards that followed yards behind the couple before she looked away across the pond. "It is beautiful out here."

Eyes never straying from the woman at his side, Aro smiled yet again. "Not as beautiful as you my love." Their tentative pace paused again momentarily as her eyes flickered from the pond to the pathway before them, her fingers trembling slightly as she tugged her long sleeves.

"Even after all these years, you still know exactly what to say." She smiled a lovely honest smile, eyes meeting Aro's and she once again reached for his hand. She frowned at her shaking fingers and drew her hand away from his before they touched and folded them into the hems of her sleeves. "It's so lovely here, I don't know why we don't do this more often." She offered, voice shaking slightly. Aro frowned, eyes trained on his wife's shaking hands.

With an index finger, Aro turned her head to face him. "Sulpicia, it isn't safe for you to be outside the tower unprotected, you know this." He let his hand drop and allowed a frown to crease his porcelain face.

"I don't feel safe here." She whispered, "I don't feel safe anywhere anymore." she began to wring her hands nervously, eyes flickering about the garden to emphasize her unease, "Where are Corin and Athenodora?"

Aro cracked a small smile, "In your rooms, my love; no doubt eagerly awaiting your return." An audible crack from nearby made the woman beside him jump, baring her canines at the tree line. The hulking guards tensed, moving closer to the couple in a flash. "Gentlemen, if you would kindly escort Sulpicia safely back to the tower."

Sulpicia reared away from the nearest guard as he reached for her arm. "The tower?" she inquired desperately, shaking off the heavy hand of a second guard. "Please. I miss this. I miss us, Aro."

"Sulpicia, it isn't safe anymore. You need to go back." Aro turned a heavy gaze onto her, his gaze softened at her shaking hands and wide feverish eyes, signs of withdrawal. A heavy weight dropped onto his heart as she was finally dragged swiftly from the park by the guards.

They were gone before the disheveled witch emerged from the tree line his wife had been snarling at only moments earlier. "Mrs. Lestrange." He greeted stoically.

"It has been done." She said airily, her dark, sunken eyes staring at him. "Soon they'll have no choice but to rescind the laws and you'll have to deliver your end of the bargain."

Aro allowed his lip to curl into a smile; it was quite unlike the smile he had given his wife only moments before. "Yes, you and your master will be reunited soon."

* * *

Harry tossed the shot back, the alcohol burning down his throat. He grimaced and slammed the small glass down on the splintered wood of the Hog's Head bar top. The wizened bartender threw the dirty wash rag over a shoulder and lifted the bottle to refill the shot glass, but Harry held up a hand to halt him. "'m done for the night, Abe." His words slurred slightly

Aberforth leaned forward, bright blue eyes piercing the side of Harry's face as he let the bottle settle on a shelf just under the cracked bar top. "You and that, thick headed red head friend of yours only come into my bar on few occasions, like when you've gotten a bit over your head." His voice was a harsh whisper and his gaze evaluated the green eyed wizard before him. Harry frowned and turned to face the man.

"What makes you think I've gotten over my head?" He inquired in an affronted manner, scrunching his nose up a bit at the suggestion. His new oval wire frame glasses slid down his nose to linger on the very tip.

Aberforth's expression instantly dropped into a disgruntled one as he withdrew the bottle he had previously placed under the bar and slammed it down on the bar top. "A man that has things together is often in one place at a time, and doesn't pound seven shots of Torgues in a thirty minute time frame."

Harry matched his disgruntled expression, taking a moment to glower at the bottle of Torques Turbulent Tequila and its cheerful proclamation of alcohol content, and leaned in closer to the older wizard, "That doesn't mean that I don't have everything under control."

"Really?" Aberforth, hissed leaning heavily on that bar. "Do you really have everything under control, Potter?

"Don't go there Abe." Harry warned gruffly, fists clenching.

"If I don't then who will?! 'Cause you certainly won't." Aberforth exclaimed, slamming his open palms onto the splintering countertop.

Harry peered over his glasses at his old ally.

Aberforth sighed at the small brunette wizard sitting at his bar. "You pretend to be in control, chasing after the wrong doers of the world. But I know you better than that Potter." Aberforth snarled leaning his face in inches from the young wizards own, wizened eyes locking with the smoldering emerald gaze. "I know you're running from it. You've been running since Granger passed on, and kept running when Weasley-"

Harry slammed his fist onto the counter violently making his empty glass jump. "Don't-"

"And now Potter, you're running from yourself!" Aberforth pushed past the younger wizard's interruptions, his eyes wide with conviction.

Harry kneaded his eyes with the pads of his fingers, breath short. "I-Bleedin-Sod it." He stopped and looked up through his fringe, breathing out deeply. His hand covered his mouth and he stared into Aberforth's wide eyed gaze.

"You're more like Albus than you realize. You can't run from yourself forever Potter." He stated, eyes narrowing again. "He did, look where it got him." Aberforth leaned back away from the young man. "I'm only telling you what you need to hear. You can keep running, Potter, but everything will catch up to you in the end. It always does."

He picked up a grimy glass and began wiping it down with a dirty rag as harry stumbled to his feet, his stool toppling to the floor. Harry stared dazedly through his fringe at the wizened old man behind the bar and without stopping to right his fallen seat, turned and falteringly strode from the Hogshead.

* * *

Daniel Urvings had spotlighted himself as a strong public supporter of the segregation laws during a press conference within the last month, and again during an interview with Rita Skeeter earlier that week. Harry had taken to shadowing the man after the press conference. His efforts seemed to be in vain however, there had been no signs of suspicious activity since.

Contrary to popular belief, stakeouts were a rather tedious affair, especially without a partner to keep you occupied. And Harry, having been awake for the past two days, was about to set up some simple wards and head back to Ron's apartment for the rest of the night.

Harry toyed with the chain of the time turner around his neck, enjoying the coolness of the metal as he watched the man enjoying dinner with his family. He allowed his eyes to shutter closed for a moment imagining the way the bed would feel under him as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

Feeling himself start to nod off he quickly opened his eyes, training them back onto the dining room window. Clicking his tongue against his teeth he drew his wand, ready to cast the wards when a movement caught his attention. Swinging his gaze to the left, he saw a shadowy figure dart into an alley across the street. He frowned at the alleyway waiting for someone to reemerge. A minute ticked by and Harry resolved himself to going down and taking a look. With a stretch Harry apparated to the left of the alley, readying his wand he slowly peeked around the corner.

Eyes adjusting to the dark, he could see the shimmer of a disillusionment charm surrounding the darkly clothed form of Bellatrix Lestrange. She blinked twice before her expression slid into a pleased smile, every ounce of her demeanor screamed predatory insanity. Before he could duck out of the way again, he was struck in the face with a disarming spell. His wand flew from his clutches and skittered across the pavement.

"I should have expected whee baby Potter to show up." She simpered at him, throwing in a baby voice in an attempt to incite his wrath. "Been looking for me this whole time Potter?"

Panic seated in Harry's chest as he dove for his wand. He felt the time turner press uncomfortably into his chest, hearing a small crinkle as the glass no doubt cracked under his body weight. His fingers closed around his wand and he flipped onto his back raising a shield in time to block a nasty jet of orange light.

He took in her sunken appearance, flicking his wand at her wordlessly firing off a binding spell. She danced to the side cackling. "Still mad that I killed Him?!" She inquired a wicked grin on her face, stretching out her sallow sickly skin. He took this moment to move into a crouch, eyes assessing.

"Oh Potters lost all his fight." She cackled in an odd singsong voice, flicking her wand at him again, the sudden motion catching him off guard and his wand nearly flew from his grasp again. Standing he readjusted his grip before trading launching the first spell that came to his mind at the woman.

Her eyes gleamed in the dimming light, crazed, grin etched onto her face and body twisting and jerking as she dodged and blocked his spells. They matched each other spell for spell eyes burning into each other's. Bellatrix's grin had devolved to a snarl as he continued to block her attacks. After minutes that seemed to stretch their dance halted, both a bit winded from the brief and violent exchange.

The sickly grin worked it's way back onto her face, "I was wrong, Whee baby potter still has some fight to him." She cackled to herself, "That's good, it's no fun when they don't fight back." Harry once again readjusted his grip on his wand. She took advantage of this and launched another spell at him.

Caught in a faltering moment, Harry was unprepared for the cutting hex she volleyed at him as she twisted to the side. Hearing the shattering of glass seconds before he felt the spell impact with his stomach, he let out a shocked grunt.

He attempted to retaliate swinging his arm in a wide arch, only to have it move in an entirely different direction. He gazed in horror down at his legs as he seemed to distort for a moment, then with a familiar sensation tugging at his navel, Harry disappeared.

* * *

Ron had been stalking Harry James Potter with varying degrees of success, often losing his trail as quickly as he'd come across him. For reasons, that Ron was not yet ready to question, Harry had developed a recent fixation with a wizard. Said fixation making him so much easier to pinpoint, Ron considered this a proverbial gift horse. He had intended to approach the young man as soon as he caught sight of him, make him explain why his eyes were always on his mind and, once he was satisfied with the answer, remove him from his head. Ron had gotten within feet of the man when something gave him pause. He couldn't do it. For some reason he couldn't bring himself to harm the man, he just couldn't.

He had moved, more quickly than the human eye could see, to an overlooking rooftop and had been watching him watch the wizard ever since. Every movement, every small sound mesmerized him.

He had come close to the man on several occasions, never closer than when he first encountered the small wizard. Each time he approached he felt an onslaught of emotions and memories; they opposed each other and confused him. He would retreat just as quickly, just as silently, as he had approached. He had spent so much time watching him, so much time finding him. And now he had lost him again, all because of that woman. Lestrange, he'd called her. He narrowed a hateful gaze on the still cackling female in the alleyway. She would give him answers. She would help him find Harry again.

* * *

Red, for the life of him Harry couldn't find the significance for the color. Mind refusing to focus properly, so full of things he had yet to accomplish yet somehow had and things he ought not know, but did. His brow furrowed as he brought his hand level to his face rubbing his index finger and thumb together to feel the wet red substance. He looked from his hand to his abdomen, a spreading patch of the color decorating the region. His eyes widened and he looked up, understanding finally settling upon his features. Blood.

Unconsciously he sought out a pair of once topaz eyes. They were dark, as if the pupil had overtaken them. Emotions swam freely in them, Fear, confusion, hunger.

Harry looked back down at his stomach. "Oh." The word slipped from between his lips, his brow furrowing once more. He looked back up to see Edward rising from his seat, Ashley Baker screamed and Harry's world began to tunnel and tilt sideways.

"Harry?!"

Unfocused eyes shot open as his wound was jostled, Harry couldn't make his eyes focus on the blurry face only inches from his own. He felt strong cold arms wrapped around his person and he struggled to see Edward's pained face. "Stay awake, Harry." His black eyes stared down at Harry, blurring as the brunette's vision slipped out of his control again. They looked imposing and quite predatory, almost like two black holes just waiting to suck his soul away.

Harry let his head roll to the side, he watched as the pavement seemed to slip away underneath him an unnatural pace. A queasy feeling fell over him and his abdomen let its discomfort known. "Oh," Harry grunted out, teeth gritting violently together. "GOD!" He let his arms drag themselves over the wound he knew was there and he attempted to curl in on himself.

For a brief moment he felt awake, the thought that the pain was nothing compared to a cruciatus curse vaguely entered his hazy mind. A hiss slipped past his teeth, eyes retrained themselves on his reddening sleeves and he turned his head back to look at his student. Edward's soul sucking gaze locked onto his face.

As soon as the adrenaline rush began it seemed to cut itself off. Rolling upwards of their own accord, the young wizard's eyes slowly let his reality slip away.

"Stay with me."

* * *

Harry felt detached from his entire body. As he blearily stared up at the nurses and doctors as they hovered over him, yelling medical terms and orders. His mouth and ears felt like they were filled with cotton, his eyes began to roll around in his head again. The sounds around him began to mesh into confusing combinations. The machines beeping strung out into a singular long drawn out beep. Harry's eyes closed and he felt himself slip into darkness, accompanied by his Mother's dying scream.

He chanced a look around at his surroundings, at the misty white vastness of Kings Cross station greeted him. He barely glanced at the man that sat across from him, brushing off the feeling of familiarity, preferring instead to wonder where Dumbledore was this time around. In a moment of melancholy, Harry peered beneath the bench he sat on, startling suddenly when his own voice slipped out of the familiar stranger's mouth.

"He's not going to be there." Harry looked at the man across from him, really looked. He was staring at himself. But he looked older somehow. Or perhaps it was the red staining his double's abdomen and the world weary look in the man's equally green eyes. "But we already knew that."

Harry breathed in a deep breath as he felt his eyes drawn downward to his own stomach, finding no red staining his own button down shirt. He frowned. "How is it that you're there, If I'm here?" He asked his mind fuzzy on the subject.

His bloody double smiled at him. "Ah well I think it has something to do with the fact that when the time turner was destroyed, I had no way to exist in two places at once and merged with you, and summarily died of my injuries. My injuries then became yours and you died as well."

Harry nodded with a frown, "Complicated yet not." He agreed to the theory. He winced as a sharp pain worked its way into his gut and frowned as his vision became blurry.

"Looks like our times up." Harry's double stated morosely as Harry attempted to blink the fog from his eyes. "Sadly we don't get to choose this go round, we've still got work to do."

His vision cleared as he was pulled sharply from Kings Cross by a sharp jolt of electricity. Men and women surrounded him, dressed in blue scrubs, and throwing more orders and medical terms that Harry couldn't possibly understand. Harry felt air being forced into his lungs through a tube that had been stuffed down his throat. Finally as they hooked the IV into his arm and the anesthetic started flowing into his body he lost consciousness.

* * *

His first waking thought wasn't nearly as romantic or poetic as most people made it out to be. It was a flurry. Blinding panic, a feeling of vulnerability as he jolted and winced at his injury. It was of how his hand was unusually warm and sweaty. He glanced down to the slender hand laced into his own, and at the sleeping face of Tonks.

Behind her he spotted Remus reclining in a lightly padded Hospital chair. His head was tilted uncomfortably to the side. A thin hospital blanket was thrown carefully over him and his graying hair was mussed up.

"Bloody Hell." He heard himself mutter grittily. The sound of his voice shook Tonks out of her slumber. He turned his gaze on her teary eyes.

"Harry!" She breathed out, a smile adorning her pale face and she scooted as close to the edge of the bed as her large stomach would allow.

Her exclamation woke Remus. His amber eyes darted around the room for a moment, looking for a disturbance, before honing in on Harry's bedridden form. "Harry!" He got up from his seat, blanket falling to the floor around his feet.

"We thought we lost you!" She exclaimed, clasping his hand between hers and hugging it to her chest. Remus drew up behind his wife and laid his hand over Tonks'. Harry took them in, allowing his heart to swell with emotion.

It was his second cognizant thought that ended up being mildly poetic. He realized that, here in this hospital room was everything that he would miss if he left Forks Washington. "No," Harry gave her a crooked grin as he turned his gaze back to his friends, hazily remembering how he came to the hospital. _'Stay with me'_ "You're stuck with me."

* * *

The dead eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange stared back at him from the other side of the window. Harry sucked in a breath and hastily drew the curtains together. He exhaled shakily, rapidly blinking at the green floral patterned hospital curtains, "Slytherin's shorts." He whispered to himself, allowing himself to fall backwards onto his hospital bed and wincing as his abdomen gave a twinge. He cursed softly to himself, the Lupin's had finally gone home that morning after keeping Harry company for two days. He was alone. Taking a few calming breaths Harry elevated his hospital bed before slowly parting the curtains with his index and middle finger, peeking out past the curtain.

The dark eyes were clouded over with a grey film and dried blood was flecked across her dirty skin, and crusted in her dark hair. Harry reached under his glasses to rub at his eyes; he could feel a headache coming on. Well, not entirely alone if Bellatrix counted for anything.

"Do you like it?" A smooth voice inquired from just over his shoulder. Harry tensed and turned himself over on his bed, vision filled with crimson eyes and a pale face. The man backed away slightly and Harry took in a sharp breath. "You don't do you?"

"Ron..." Harry exhaled, his arm found its way across his healing abdomen in a defensive stance.

"You do know me." Ron wondered aloud as he stepped forward again, red hair falling into equally red eyes. "And I you." He continued speaking more to himself. "Or at least I used to."

"You're a vampire." Harry concluded eyes still wide and trained on his undead best friend.

Ron smirked at the green eyed wizard, "And you're a wizard, Harry." Ron stopped, eyes narrowing. "That's your name isn't it?"

Harry nodded slowly, slightly confused by his friends apparent memory loss. Ron moved his face inches from Harry's own, and Harry inhaled slowly as he stared evenly into a curious crimson gaze.

"You're eyes are just like the ones I remember." He murmured, his left hand coming up to brush hair away from Harry's forehead, revealing the famed lightning bolt scar. "The only thing I remember clearly." He traced the scar attempting to be gentle, yet still eliciting a wince from the shorter wizard. Ron quickly removed his thumb from the brunette's forehead, eyes glancing down at the wizard's bandaged abdomen. "So fragile."

Ron allowed his fingers to drop down and quickly snatch up Harry's arm. He traced the scar Harry had received from the Basilisk when he was twelve. Harry allowed his eyes to follow Ron's icy fingers as they ghosted easily over the faded scar. "You can't remember anything?" Harry inquired softly, eyes flickering away from his friend's fingers and back up into his face.

The man was silent for a few moments, eyes scanning the rest of Harry's visible skin for other scars, fingers darting over each one. "When a human is turned, they lose everything from their old life, their scars, all of their imperfections, even their memories." Ron explained eyes rising to meet Harry's searching gaze, right hand reaching up to grip Harry's shoulder. "Yet, for some reason, I still have a few stray memories floating about." Ron let a small smile slip onto his pale face, his left hand coming up to brush some stray hairs behind Harry's ear. "Inconsequential things. Things so small they've begun to drive me a little mad."

Harry flinched away from Ron's icy touch as his fingers brushed down his cheek and his hand came down to cup his neck. "What do you remember, exactly?" he inquired haltingly, a sense of foreboding creeping into the pit of his stomach. Harry had never felt so vulnerable as he did then, laying on the half elevated hospital bed with his vampiric best friend hovering predatorily over him.

"Just you." Ron inhaled deeply, his pupils dilating as he tangled his fingers in the small hairs at the base of Harry's neck, tilting Harry's head to the side as his lips rested against the skin between his shoulder and neck.

The Hospital room door slammed open, Harry felt himself sag in relief at the sight of Edward's lean form filling the doorframe. His lips were drawn back into an inhuman snarl, and his eyes were black. "Get away from him!" Edward hissed menacingly, Ron drew away from Harry slightly a smile playing at his lips. Harry thought he caught sight of Doctor Cullen and perhaps Alice as well from behind the enraged youth. "He's mine."

"I beg your pardon!" Harry exclaimed from over Ron's broad shoulder, relief giving way to indignation, all caution flying to the wind.

Ron chuckled lightly, not having ever taken his eyes off of Harry. "I don't think I will. He was mine before he was yours," Ron ignored the indignant noise Harry emitted and with a swift movement picked Harry up bridal style and pulled him to his chest tightly, knocking the wind out of the small human, "and I'm not about to let him go again."

The two disappeared in a snap of black smoke. Edward's enraged snarl lost to both of them.

* * *

**AN: I would like to apologize for the fight scene between Harry and Bellatrix, I've always sucked at writing out fight scenes. Please review, questions and constructive criticism are, as always, welcome.**


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